


Ever After

by Karkalicious769



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Gap Romance, Alcohol, Blood, Burning to death, Dave also really loves De Nile, De Nile is a river that Karkat is very familiar with, Death in Childbirth, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Plot, Giving up your child, Infidelity, Mild Eye Gore, Mild child neglect, Minor Character Death, Multi, Omnipotence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, a lot of unrequited love, blinded character, descriptions of torture, mental trauma, mild depictions of gore, past trauma, slow relationship build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:43:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 38
Words: 205,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8582422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karkalicious769/pseuds/Karkalicious769
Summary: The job will be nearly impossible. Karkat Vantas - as skilled an assassin as he may be - has never been assigned such a high risk target. But the pay drives him to accept. He will kill the heir to the Dersite throne, and live like a king for the rest of his life. It should have been straightforward and emotionless. When he meets a peasant on the street and gets attached, however, he begins to question whether or not the risk is worth it when all he needs is Dave.





	1. Where It All Began

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I didn't know me, like I know me now.  
> Sometimes you gotta get lost so you can get found.  
> I've been scared of the dark and I've been scared of the light.  
> But if you never get knocked down, you'll never learn how to fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Otherwise known as: the one where the author knows nothing about humans in medieval times. Hopefully you can forgive me for the horrible historical inaccuracies that will no doubt happen. The most I know comes from Skyrim, and I’m hoping that my proof-reader (who does pay attention in history class) can help fix anything that is horribly wrong. But remember: suspension of disbelief.  
> Anyway, it’s NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) again, and guess who’s writing 30,000 words? Hopefully me. My goal last year was 20,000, and I did it, so let’s see how well I do. I’m also aiming for a slow relationship build up with this one, as well on more focus when it comes to other characters and their backgrounds. Haha, yeah. Good luck to me.

The crowded, bustling streets of the market make a perfect cover.

Sure, it's hard to navigate at times, and the sights, sounds, and smells would be a sensory overload to anyone who hadn't grown up with it, but it comforts you. You haven't visited your hometown in ages, but it's not entirely your fault. Your occupation is the reason you left, as well as the reason you're back now.  
The castle is off in the distance, looming above the thatched cottages. It's impressive, you'll admit that much. And to think, somewhere in that huge expanse of stone and marble lies your target. The boy that doesn't exist. You mean that figuratively, of course. He exists, but no mere commoner would know that. It must be a combination of the king's paranoia and overprotectiveness, because though everyone knew the queen had been pregnant, they had been told it was a miscarry. You know better.

You feel the weight of your bag pressing firm against your side. It's empty, save a few piece of parchment, but those few pages of writing are your entire future. If you pull this off, you'll never have to work again.

All you have to do is kill the prince. Easy enough, right? Yeah…

This job will probably take years to complete. Good thing your employer isn't in a rush. You need to set up a home in this town. Ingrain yourself in their lives and culture. Gain their trust. Then, get a job on the castle staff; a gardener, or something simple that has to work outside most of the time. You need to study the layout. On one of your parchments is a map, but while it shows you the upper towers and bedrooms and where the prince sleeps, it doesn't show you how to get in, or even the staircase that will get you up there to begin with. You need to learn the guards schedules. Find and opening or flaw and seize the moment.

So, basically, all you need to do is the impossible. As hard as it sounds though, you know you can do this. The pay will all be worth it. It's what he would have wanted. You know it is.

Pulling yourself back to reality, you refocus on the busy market around you. You need… someone. A pawn. Someone that's influenced easily enough for you to use them as a cover story. It will be more believable if you have a friend or a roommate of some kind that is gullible enough and trusting enough to not ask too many questions. You don't need them per se, but it will definitely help with things like rent. You're not going to buy a permanent home. Your job is to gain their trust, not to become a part of anyone's life.

The sound of laughter draws your gaze away from the castle, and you look to your left. There's two people coming out from a shop, and for some reason, the younger of the two immediately catches your attention. He looks almost your age. Maybe a little bit younger, if you had to guess. The older of them is about in his mid-thirties by the looks of things, with short, brown hair and surprisingly well-kept facial hair. He's wearing an apron that's ratty, worn, and stained from years of use. If the sign above the door is to be believed, the building they just left is a "Sweet Shoppe" which likely means a bakery or sweetmeat shop.

You watch the younger one, a blond boy who looks much cleaner than his older companion - you assume, his employer - take a small basket of sweet rolls from the older man and tuck it under his arm. They share a short conversation that you don't pick up, and hug briefly before the blond finally turns to go. He approaches a stand outside the shop that you didn't notice before. There's a brunet standing there, looking bored until the blonde approaches. They're friends, you guess. The new male looks a lot like the older one who disappeared back into his shop. So maybe it's a family shop? That makes sense, you guess. The blond you're so interested in chats with his friend for a bit, laughter and smiles all around, before they too share a hug and he sets off again.

You think that this is the type of person you're looking for. He looks comfortable and secure in his routine. Which means that he must have been living here for a while. He has a job from the looks of things, friends, and you see him share a few nods of passing with the occasional commoner as he passes them. You know that he'll make the perfect cover.

Falling into a steady pace, you avoid looking directly at him as you walk towards him. You pretend to be infatuated with your surroundings, faking surprise when you bump into him harshly. He gasps a little in surprise, the basket of treats jostling in his grip despite the way he holds it tighter automatically.

"Sorry!" You apologize, reaching down and picking up the two sweet rolls that landed on the ground. "I didn't see you there, Mr…?" You prompt him for his name, holding out the sweets as a sort of offering.

He gives you a funny look for a moment. You suppose that you do look a little bit suspicious. Seeing as how you don't have a place to set everything yet, you have all of your possessions on you. And it's not a lot. You're wearing a torn up cloak that you've had for as long as you can remember, the hood up and casting your face in shadow and the rest of it hiding the details of your figure as well as the sword you keep strapped to your back. You try not to use that particular weapon too often. You like to stick to your sickles, which are strapped to your thighs, or your daggers, which you keep up your sleeves and inside of your boots. You have the small satchel with the details of your job in it of course, and another, larger bag with clothes and a canister of water. Other than that? Just the clothes on your back and a rather impressive bag of gold and silver pieces, if you do say so yourself.

"Dave." He says finally, bring you back to the conversation. You really need to stop zoning out. "Just Dave. And don't worry about it." He takes the sweet rolls from your outstretched hand, placing them back in the basket. "No harm done. I have plenty of them to go around. So," Dave adjusts the basket into his other arm, holding it against his side by placing a hand on his hip, "what's your name? You're new to town, right? I tend to recognize most people, and I don't think we've ever met."

Alright, good. This is going perfectly. You just need to keep the topic away from yourself as much as possible. Still, there's not really any harm in telling him your name. "Karkat." You say simply. "Just Karkat. And, yes, I'm new around here. Do you know the town very well?" Oh, you hope that you didn't misread something and he's actually only been here a week.

Dave nods, reaching up with his free hand to adjust his shades. You didn't really pay much attention to them before, but now they interest you. Shades are definitely expensive, and you wonder how he can afford them with the low salary that comes with working in a bakery. They aren't the nicest pair you've ever seen, but still. "I've... lived here for seven years, I think?" He tilts his head to the side, frowning. "Yeah. Seven years." He nods. "If you want, I can give you a small tour. This town isn't that big. I can't stay long, though. I have to be home soon. But I can point out some things on my way to the orphanage. It's on the edge of town, so nothing is really "out of my way" unless we go in the opposite direction." Dave jerks his thumb to the right, indicating the opposite way, you suppose. Interesting. So the orphanage is on the way to the palace? You think that you'll take Dave up on his offer. It will give you the excuse you need to get a closer look and maybe see what he knows about the royal family.

"Sure." You agree, smiling in what you hope is a friendly way. "That sounds like a really nice thing to do for someone that just bumped into you and ruined two perfectly good sweet rolls." You say honestly.

To your relief, Dave just laughs, shaking his head a little. So he has a sense of humor. That's fantastic. "It's nothing." He says dismissively, starting to walk and gesturing for you to follow. You do, syncing your pace with his easily. "I just like to help people out. Makes me feel useful, you know." Dave murmurs this last part, looking away, and you frown. He looks guilty and more than a little regretful as he stares at the ground. You almost ask what's wrong, but then the moment passes and he's back to his chipper self from before. You're beginning to think that Dave isn't really that happy of a person, but you don't pry. You just met the guy. You have no business poking your nose in his personal issues.

You clear your throat, trying to ease the sudden tension between you. "Is that why you're going to the orphanage?" You try hopefully.

Dave smiles, obviously relieved at the change in topic, and nods. "Yeah. It's the orphanage I lived in, so after I left, I made sure to come back every now and again with treats from the other kids there. Hence these." He holds up the sweet rolls for a moment so that you know what he's talking about before putting them against his side again. "It's sort of like a tradition. They love when I visit. And can you blame them?" Dave grimaces. "The shit that place can get away with calling "food" is ridiculous. Impressive, really. But there are worse orphanages. Probably. It's the only one in this town, and I've never left, so…" He shrugs a little, "I wouldn't know personally. But there's always something worse, isn't there?"

You hum in agreement, watching the silhouette of the castle against the sky get closer the longer you and Dave keep walking. This guy sure can talk a lot. You really couldn't have picked a better pawn if you had made him yourself. "That's true." You say. Now, how to change topics without being too obvious…? "Do you think the people in the palace realize that?" You ask with fake innocence, inclining your head towards the aforementioned structure.

There's a moment's pause, and Dave's smile drops into a deep and thoughtful frown. "No." He settles on after a moment. "A selfish king and a spoiled queen. That's all that's up there. Nothing deeply profound in the slightest." He mutters darkly. You're a little caught off guard by how venomously he speaks of his king and queen. You thought that the town loved them, which is odd considering how little time they spend out of their palace. But apparently not. You want to ask why the way he talks about them seems so personal, but again, it's none of your business. And besides. Why bother when the perfect conversation turner is looming along the horizon?

"Hey!" You force a smile, pointing at the orphanage off in the distance. "Look, we're here. Isn't that great?" You laugh awkwardly, but either Dave doesn't notice it, or actually buys that your horrible act is genuine.

"Damn." He groans, still frustrated, but with himself, this time. "I forgot to point out the inn. You'll need a place to stay, right?"

You shake your head, feeling uncomfortable. You wanted a nice guy, not a selfless guy. "It's fine." You tell him insistently. "I can find it. You've been nice enough already." Seriously. Niceness to this level is not something you're used to, and you don't want to be, either. You don't want to get attached to him just for being a decent human being. Becoming dependent on Dave would ruin everything. One would think that, after twenty-seven kills, you would be less open to emotional attachment, but apparently not. You're just as vulnerable as everyone else, so it's best to keep your distance. That doesn't mean that you can't - or won't - use him to your advantage, though.

Dave frowns, still unhappy with the compromise, but nods regardless. "Alright." he turns, pointing back the way you came. "It's down that way. Just walk until there's a row of buildings on your left. It's the third one down. There's a huge sign, so don't worry. You couldn't miss it if you tried." You nod in understanding once he's done, filing the directions away for later. You're not going to get a permanent home, but you will need something more than an inn. The most you could keep a room there for is a week.

"And, uh, if you don't mind my asking," You begin, looking sideways at Dave as he continues on his way to the orphanage, "where do you live?"

He shrugs, taking a sweet roll from the basket (one of the ones you knocked in the ground, you notice) and beginning to eat it. "Doesn't matter. Family problems. I left, and when I do go back, I don't stay long. The orphanage kept me for a while, which is why I lived there. The girl who runs it is really nice. She inherited the place from her granddad, who passed away. But I'm getting off topic. To answer your question, I rent a room in a place just a little past the orphanage." He tears off a piece of the sweet and offers it to you, but you politely decline, shaking your head, and he shrugs before eating it himself. "I pay for it with my job at the bakery. I don't know if you noticed it in the town square where you bumped into me, but there's a bakery there. Sometimes, like today, I stop by the orphanage to just say hi to the kids and bring them shit." You nod a little in confirmation. God, he can talk a lot. It's great. Fucking perfect. You know so much about him already, and he doesn't even know your last name. To be fair, you don't know his last name, either, but it ties him to his family, and he would understandably want to avoid being associated with them if they drove him to leave.

"Dave!" A girl's voice catches your attention, and you refocus on your surroundings. The orphanage isn't off in the distance anymore. It's right in front of you, and a girl about your age is standing on the porch. She's pretty you think, long black hair and emerald eyes, but her large smile takes center stage. You don't think you've ever seen a smile that wide or so completely delighted.

She runs up to the two of you, wrapping Dave in a hug, which he awkwardly returns with one arm. The other is still holding the basket of treats, which you hesitate before gently taking from him. Dave gives you a relieved smile, now hugging the girl back properly. "Hey, Jade." He smiles as the wind blows and whips her hair around them both. "I wasn't gone for that long, you know. I don't work long hours."

The girl - Jade - just shakes her head and pulls out of the hug. You notice that they're holding hands despite the space between them, and it makes you frown. Are they married? Or courting? It's most likely the second one, but you hope they're just friends. Dave having a girl in his life that's not as gullible as him will just overcomplicate things. "It feels like ages." Jade pouts playfully, and her gaze slides over to you. She studies you for a moment, then her main point of interest shifts to the basket you're holding. "Extras at the bakery again?" She asks, walking forward and taking the basket from you. You let her. It's not yours, anyway. You feel like you're intruding, and the unfriendly way she looks at you makes that painfully obvious. Not everyone can be as accommodating as Dave, you suppose.

He nods, chuckling a little. "Yeah. You know your uncle. That guy can cook for days without stopping. It's almost scary - how hard it is to shake him when he gets focused on this shit." Dave jokes.

You feel out of the loop, but that's fine. You shouldn't ingrain yourself in their lives. You can gather from what Dave said that Jade's uncle runs the bakery. That's nice for them, you suppose. You honestly don't care all that much.

Jade laughs, heading towards the orphanage and gesturing for Dave to follow. He does, pausing to think about it for only a moment before grasping your sleeve and tugging you along with him. That confuses you. Aren't you done here? Dave pointed you towards the inn, and though it's hardly even noon yet, shouldn't you go? He helped. You're fine now. You made a connection. Why does he want you to follow?

Protesting seems like making a bigger fuss than necessary though, and you allow Dave to lead you inside quietly. The place is dimly lit by oil lamps, but the windows make up for it. The stone walls are simple - functional - and the floor is old wood. At the sound of the door closing, children come running down the stairs, some hesitant and some literally bouncing up and down as the immediately crowd around Dave, clinging to his legs and smiling as they all talk at once. You can't make out any individual sentences with them talking over each other like that, but you can tell that they're excited. Really excited.

You immediately feel awkward and confused - fuck, how do you deal with kids? - but Dave seems completely at ease as he smiles and kneels down to be at their level.

"Oh wow, I missed you, Lynn." He laughs, hugging one of the little girls. You think she's maybe two or three, and she squeals in delight, her face lighting up as she's given attention.

There's not a lot of kids here, which is good considering that this is an orphanage. A quick head count reveals that there are seven in all. That's a relief. You had been so freaked out earlier that you thought there was a whole hoard of them.

"Jeremy got adopted yesterday." Jade remarks with a smile, and you notice a smaller kid hiding behind her legs and clinging to her skirt. Her hand is resting on the child's head, absentmindedly petting his hair like she's done this for him a million times. You like the ease of it all. Most orphanages you've been to don't have kind people like Jade to manage them. Especially not the one where you were raised. But you already know that you'll be reliving those memories tonight when you sleep, so thinking about it now would waste your time.

Dave hums in recognition, gesturing for Jade to hand him the basket. She does, keeping one for herself, which she hands to the little boy clinging to her. "Is that so? I hope it was a good family." He says conversationally, smiling as the other kids come up to him and take a treat. He must do this often then, if they're all used to it. You see one kid immediately shuffle back up the stairs once she has her treat, but the rest stay, seeming to just like being around Dave. You can understand that. He has a magnetic personality, and it's awful. Fuck, you've known the guy for less than a day and you can already feel yourself getting attached. You need to wrap this visit up, and fast.

Jade nods, chuckling a little as she kneels down in front of one of the little boys. "They seemed like perfectly fine parents." She said as she used a handkerchief to wipe the boy's mouth clean. Messy eater, apparently. "The wife had already had a miscarry, and they didn't want to risk another, so adoption seemed like the right choice." She explains. "Really eager for a kid. I think he'll like it there."

Standing back up straight, Dave tucks the empty basket back under his arm. "I'm glad." He smiles, and you actually believe that. He doesn't even act like he'll miss the kid, even though you can tell he does. Dave is just… genuinely happy that the boy - Joe, or something? - gets a family. It's making you choke up, and fuck, now Dave is going to be in your recurring dream, isn't he? Just for being a sap about something mildly relating to your childhood. God damnit.

"Dave." You speak up suddenly, catching both of their attentions. Jade looks like she had forgotten about your presence entirely, or at least like she wanted to, and Dave just looks interested.

"The one and only." He replies. "Sorry. Does being here make you uncomfortable, Karkat?" Dave frowns in concern, and you shake your head. Nope. You refuse to accept his pity.

Taking a few steps back, away from the kids, you just shrug. "No. I just don't want to intrude." You say, and that's truth enough. You feel like you really shouldn't be here, and Jade looks like she agrees. It's pretty obvious to see that, if there isn't a relationship between the two currently, she definitely wants there to be one.

Frowning, Dave nods after a minute. "Yeah, sorry about that." He says honestly. "I should have figured that you have better things to do than follow a stranger around. You still have to find a place to set yourself up, right? How long do you plan on staying? Do you need a job?" Oh, no. You are so not letting Dave work out the foundations of the entire next few years of your entire life. You are not going to become dependent on him.

But you're not going to lie about it, either. It's a small world. You'll probably see him again whether you like it or not. Lying always comes right back around to bite you in the ass. "I'm staying for a few years." You admit with a sigh. "But, really, you don't need to help me. I can find a job on my own." You insist.

Dave hums a little in thought, thinking about something before he perks up. "You know, I have a friend working at the castle who says they're in the market for a new groundskeeper, if you're interested." You open your mouth to protest, then immediately snap it shut again. This is an opportunity you don't want to fuck up. "I mean, there are some requirements, of course." Dave continues, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "A few questions, from what I hear. The royal family is pretty... private. They won't hire just anyone. But you're more than welcome to try for the job if you like."

"That…" You can't help but smile. Huh. That was… surprisingly easy. You wonder for a moment how Dave befriended someone who works at the castle, but the you decide that you're not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, and that you don't really care to begin with. "That sounds great, actually." You confess. "Thank you, Dave. Really."

He just shrugs, like saving you months of searching is no big deal. "Don't worry about it." He says dismissively. "It's the least I can do after wasting your time. You could be all moved in and comfortable by now." Dave actual looks guilty and regretful about it too, and you can't help but wonder exactly what happened in his childhood that made him so eager and desperate to please. You've met more than your fair share of broken people, and while Dave seems fine, you can see his cracks from miles away. You're not going to get invested, though. Definitely not. He's not your problem. You're only using him.

Jade clears her throat, putting on a clearly fake smile as she turns to you. "Well, now that that's covered, do you know where you're going to stay?" She asks politely enough. She doesn't trust you, you realize. Not that you blame her. You wouldn't trust you either, but it's reassuring to know that she isn't just a major bitch. She has her reasons, likely revolving around you being a shady strange and her having a house full of kids to protect. In which case, kudos to her for having a brain. Unlike some girls you've had the displeasure of meeting during your travels.

You nod, moving away from the kids and towards the door. "Yes, actually." You say, and she seems relieved. "Dave told me about an inn nearby. So I'll just stay there for some time and rent a real house once I have a job." It's a nice plan. Certainly more than you had when you first walked into town this morning.

"You remember how to get there, right?" Dave asks, sounding something like a doting mother. "Back the way we came, third building on your left?"

Rolling your eyes, you can't help but smile. "Yes, Dave." You sigh. "I remember."

He turns a faint shade of red, embarrassed, and laughs a little. "Good, good. I have to be home soon, but what if tomorrow I give you a proper tour of the town?" He offers, sounding a little too hopeful. "Afterwards, my friend can meet up with us can give you a little insight into that job on the castle grounds. If you're still up for it then. Don't be fooled - that castle is not the best place to work." Dave warns you seriously.

You ignore the warning, considering your options, and- fuck it, you don't even need to think about it. There's no downside to this. You get closer to fulfilling your purpose, and Dave gets to satisfy his misguided attempts to fill the void in his life by helping people. Everyone wins.

"That sounds good." You agree, nodding. "Do you know how to find me?" Talk doesn't really mean anything if in the end Dave doesn't know where you are.

Dave nods, trailing after you towards the door. The kids seem sad to watch him go, but they also look resigned to it, and hang back. "Yeah, I've been to the inn before. I can just ask for you and they'll tell me which room." He explains.

You open the door, stepping out and giving a little wave. "Well, thanks for all the help, Dave." You say, hoping that he's planning to stay a bit longer and you can head off alone.

But, no, that doesn't happen. Dave steps out with you, sharing a brief hug with Jade before shutting the door behind him. You honestly wouldn't be surprised if she peeked through the windows to watch the two of you. She seemed like something of an older sister to him, or just a clingy girl with a crush, maybe? Either way, it comes with her being protective. How wise of her. You honestly have no problem with murder. Not that Dave has really given you a reason to want him dead, but hey. The day is still young.

Seeing the odd look you're giving him, Dave just shrugs, beginning to walk. You follow, if only because there happens to be a single path that leads you back to the main road. The two of you walk in silence, and you don't exactly know why. Is something on his mind? Did you see something that you shouldn't have?

When you reach a crossroads in the path - one heading back into town and the other heading towards the castle - Dave stops walking. You could just continue on and ignore him, but something makes you follow suit, stopping next to him.

"Hey, so," Dave begins, looking away, "it was nice meeting you, Karkat. See you tomorrow?"

You frown a little, confused by where he's going with this, but nod regardless. "Yes, that seems to be the general consistence. Why? Worried I'd duck out the window on you?" You put in a fake laugh, just to try an lift his spirits, but it doesn't look like it worked.

Dave looks like he wants to say something, but finally, he just sighs and shakes his head. "Never mind. Tomorrow, then." He pats you on the arm and turns to go, heading towards the castle. He did say that he rents a place just a little past the orphanage.

You almost stop him. Almost. You watch him go, one step, two, then three, until you merely shake your head and turn the other way. He's not your problem. And he never will be. You're going to make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck, this chapter was so hard to write. But I did it. Yay me. The next one should be better. Maybe. I’m not going to make any promises.  
> Tags will be updated as needed in order to avoid spoilers for readers who stay updated.


	2. Come Back And Haunt Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tell me you love me.  
> Come back and haunt me.  
> Oh, and I rush to the start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh! And because this AU takes place between the years 1,000 and 1,500 (that era sounds about right) I think that sexism goes without saying. It won't be a big part of the story so don't worry, but there will be those underlying themes.

_Black and white._

_White and black._

_People - kids your age - blurring in and out of your vision._

_When you turn to look for them they're nowhere to be found._

_You're on a swing. Not moving. You're kicking your feet out beneath you with rhythmless repetition. Going nowhere. The October air is cold and turns the tips of you red and numb. The swing handles bite into your palms while you grip it. You don't loosen your white-knuckled hold on the ropes._

_"Hey."_

_You look up. A boy. Your age? No. He's much taller than you could ever hope to be._

_"Hey." You nod at him._

_"You look lonely." He says._

_You shrug. "The truth is what you see." You think that you saw that in a book somewhere._

_"But I thought looks were deceiving?" He raises an eyebrow at you._

_"No reason they can't be both." You reply._

_He takes a moment to digest this. After a while he seems to accept the idea. "Two things at once?" He asks. He's confused._

_You shake your head and hold up one finger. "One or the other." You correct him. You kick off the ground. You swing high and a bird passes in front of you. But then you're back in front of him and as unmoving as ever._

_His frown deepens. "But how can you tell between them?"_

_This is where you smile. You gesture to the swing next to you. "You can always find out yourself." You offer._

_You don't see any hesitance in his motions as he takes the seat next to you. You look back over the orphanage playground. The leaves on the black and white trees darken and fall off. Snow falls and covers them. The snow melts. Years and years pass. You and him don't move. He gets taller still. You do too. But not by much. You long ago accepted that he would always be taller than you._

_He looks over at you then. You look back. There's a wide and goofy smile on his face. The same expression he's had for years. "Best friends?" He asks just like every other day._

_You nod. "Best friends." You confirm._

_"Always?" He holds out his hand for you to shake. You don't immediately. It feels like you shouldn't. You and him are almost old enough to leave the horrible orphanage where you were raised. Sticking together isn't even a question. But… what if you hurt him? Your path is a dark one. You completed your first kill the other day. You were accepted into the organization. There's no going back. Not for you or him if you shake his hand._

_Still… you've always been selfish._

_You shake his hand firmly. "Always." You promise. The word reverberates through your head. It's shaking the world around you. The swing seat creaks in protest but holds. Your grip tightens yet further. Blood welts up where the metal stings. It's red is a striking contrast to your black and white skin and black and white world and black and white existence. It's almost refreshing._

_The ground quivers and then cracks. The pieces fall in on each other one by one. There should be layers beneath the surface but there isn't. Not in your world. Under the dirt is blackness. It spirals downward into nothing. It eats at the ground until you and he are all that's left. You're still on your swing perched on your little island in your world of nothingness._

_You and him._

_Him and you._

_Without him, you're nothing. Not anymore._

_"Hey." Another voice. Not his._

_Looking up reveals that it's another boy. Blond hair. Shades. Where have you seen him before?_

_"You're losing him." The stranger tells you. He nods his head at the swing next to you. You know what's going to be waiting for you if you look. You turn your head anyway._

_Blood. A lot of it. More than you thought the body was capable of holding. His eyes are open but he isn't seeing. They're white and frozen in fear. You never knew what a person's insides looked like. The sight of his bones and stomach poking out of his mauled skin is just as unappealing as you imagined. You did this. The guilt eats away at you and your little island. Your safe haven._

_The stranger doesn't look worried. "It happens." He says instead. "Risky business, your job. Don't fuck it up. For him. Do right this time, Karkat." He smiles a little like that's supposed to make you feel better._

_You merely nod. "Will he be alright?" You ask even though the answer is obvious. Your voice sounds small and weak. Fragile. Just like it did that fateful day on the swing years ago._

_He shakes his head. "No. But such is life." He steps closer to you. The island isn't very big now. There's just a foot between you and him. Less than that between him and the edge. "It's destroying you." He continues. "You should let it go."_

_But you shake your head. "Forgiveness is the same as weakness." You mutter. Your boss taught you that just before your second kill. A revenge kill. To defend her honor. She had paid you handsomely for not getting caught._

_He just smiles. "You'll figure it out. Eventually." His expression grows serious. "Hopefully before it's too late."_

_You blink and he's gone. You look to the side where your friend should be but instead you find the blond stranger. He's dead too. His eyes are closed and his expression is peaceful as if he's only dreaming. But the dagger protruding from his gut tells a completely different story._

_You don't know how but this is your fault too. His blood. Red. It's all over you. Your hair. Your face. Your hands which shake under your stare. The guilt is too much. Your island is breaking apart and you're drowning in the blackness. Nothing. You are nothing._

_You_  
close  
your  
eyes  
and  
you're  
g  
o  
n  
e

.

.

.

"Karkat!" Loud banging on the door pulls you violently from your dream, and you jerk up into a sitting position so fast that it makes your head spin. "Karkat, I have a key, and I don't even fucking care if you're naked or what. I will come in." Your hand twitches for your sickles - which you keep under your pillows just in case - on impulse, but you resist the familiar urge.

Grumbling, you throw the blankets off of you. "I'm coming!" You call, irritated. A glance out the window tells you that it's early morning, which is not at all a time that you're used to being awake for. You were half-hoping that Dave forgot about you, but apparently not. Oh, well. You have plenty of time to distance yourself from him after you have a job on castle grounds.

You pull on a shirt and a pair of pants before going to get the door. It's so hot in this room. You hate it. Sleeping naked was the only way to keep yourself from dying of heatstroke in your sleep. You really cannot move out fast enough.

Dave is smiling when you open the door, his expression unaffected by your glare. It's too early, and he probably knows that on some level, but he's just taking joy from pissing you off. You could kill him with your bare hands in fifty different ways, but sure. By all means, he can piss you off. You won't kill him just for waking you up early, but God, the thought is tempting.

"Morning, Karkat." He smiles, weirdly chipper as he shoves a loaf of bread into your hands. "I tried to get cheese to go with it, but me and the guy at the shop couldn't settle on a price." He explained with a sigh. "He's an asshole anyway. I'll try again tomorrow, yeah?"

You blink in surprise, looking up from the bread to meet his gaze. "Uh, Dave." You frown a little, turning the food over in your hands. "You… can't keep doing this. You know that, don't you?" Your frown deepens when you see him give you a confused look.

"Doing what?" He asks, tilting his head to the side. "Being a decent person? Hate to break it to you Karkat, but I can't do that. If you really want me to leave, I will, but it just seemed to me like you needed some help and I just wanted, I don't know…" He sighed, "something to do, I guess? Something to convince me that I'm not an absolutely horrible human being?" Dave stops there and looks away, embarrassed. "Just forget I said anything. Or that I even showed up at all." He waves dismissively and turns to go. "Enjoy your bread."

You bite your lip, feeling guilt pool in your stomach. Great. Just what you need. More guilt and weight on your shoulders. So what if you're essentially his charity project? You need Dave, at least for the moment, and Dave appears to need you. "Wait." You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut for a brief pause. "Dave, wait." He looks back at you, his expression expectant. You can already tell that you're going to regret this. "I… appreciate the bread, and… I could really use your help." You tell him. To reinforce your point, you tear off a piece of the loaf and pop it into your mouth. It actually tastes better than you were expecting. It's not dry, and it goes down smooth, melting in your mouth a little. Fuck, it's really good. You hadn't realized before, but you are hungry. After checking into the inn yesterday around noon, you had been offered some lunch for the price of a silver piece, but one glance at the food told you that it was most definitely not worth it. Neither was dinner. So you eat hungrily, bite after bite going down the hatch. When you finish, you're still hungry, but not as much. You feel a lot better, actually. More ready to start the day.

Dave is watching you with a knowing smile on his face, and you flush in embarrassment. You forgot that he was there. "Well, now that you're fed," he chuckles, walking towards you, "how about that tour I promised? We can take a coach if you want to spend the money. Big town, you know?"

You grew up here, sure, but you lived on the edge of town. You didn't explore much. And your memories of the few things you did see are… hazy, at best. People have no doubt added buildings and let others fall into ruin. It's the city bordering that castle, and therefore, the biggest one in the nation. It's always growing. Not accepting the offer of a tour would be stupid.

"Sure." You agree, then pause as something occurs to you. "Is that why you woke me up so early?" You ask, one eyebrow raised. "To beat the traffic rush?"

His grin widens. "Of course. I'm a smart guy, Karkat. Even if it doesn't always seem like it. Now, follow me." He waves you after him, turning and making his way down the hall.

You duck into your room to grab your bag of coins, your boots, and the room key, locking the door behind you before hurrying after Dave. Damn, he walks fast. You didn't notice it the other day. Probably because you were actually prepared to go somewhere.

You feel naked without your weapons, but hey, what are the odds of you needing those? Ha. You bet the universe heard that thought. Now they're going to have some mediocre criminals mug you just because. You'd be willing to put money on that happening, actually. The last time you didn't have weapons with you… well, it doesn't really matter. Dave looks like a well-put together guy. He probably carries a dagger or something in his boots. At least, you hope he does. He better not be so trusting that he doesn't.

"So, where to first?" You ask once you're both outside, fiddling with your sleeves. Usually, you just put your hands in your coat pockets if you're feeling fidgety, but you kind of forgot that, too. At least it's not cold out. It's a surprisingly warm morning for early fall, but you like it.

Dave taps his chin, humming in thought as he looks around. There's not much to look at, but whatever helps him think. "How about the market?" He offers. "I know you were there yesterday, but I'm talking about, like, a detailed tour. The place is a clusterfuck, especially around noon. And there's a good chance that there will be a coach we can rent there, and believe me, that will help if you want a real tour of this place." Dave gestures around him. "It may not seem like it, but the layout of this town - assuming there even is one - is more fucked than my sleep schedule, and that's saying something."

You can't help but laugh at that, snorting a little as you quickly smother the sounds. "Sure." You smile, looking at him almost fondly. "Lead the way, then."

Dave smiles, seeming happy that you're warming up to him, and gestures for you to follow him. "There's a few places I can point out on the way, of course." He said as he started walking. "Oh, before I forget, do you fight?"

You're a little hesitant to answer the question, but you do so nonetheless. "A little." You admit. "With blades. I'm not so great with my fists. What about you? Do you fight?" You'd be lying if you said you weren't at least the littlest bit curious.

Dave nods, smiling like he knows something you don't. "You could say that." He says smugly. "I only ask because, well, there's a public smelter and forge, if you're interested. I don't usually make my own weapons, but if that's your thing, then it's always an option. But if you want the quick way, there's a weapon's shop just up ahead. They also sell armor. I've been in a few times, mostly just to look. The place is owned by this really big, muscled brute. He doesn't even talk! Just stares at you like you're lower than low while you browse. It's fucking unnerving. He had great stuff too, but most folks aren't generally brave enough to buy from him."

Wow, that sounds slightly ridiculous to you. You know that you certainly wouldn't give a fuck if some guy decided to breath down your neck in a room full of weapons that you can use but you just shrug. "It's fine." You tell him. "You can just point to the place while we walk. We don't actually have to go inside if you don't want to." You offer.

Looking relieved, Dave nods a little. "Yeah, sure. I can do that. Thank you." He adds this last bit after a small pause, like he isn't sure if you will be okay with it, but when you don't protest, he shrugs it off and a comfortable silence falls between the two of you.

You take the much welcomed silence to look around. It's much easier to not get attached to Dave when he isn't talking so animatedly and looking at you with a smile, like he's just so happy to have you with him. It's infuriatingly endearing. The street that you and Dave are walking along seems to be lined with homes. It's not that close to the heart of the city, so you notice that it's not very sanitary. The contents of chamber pots are just poured out windows, instead of into a gutter that carries the stuff downhill. To where, you aren't sure, and you don't want to know, either. People are just beginning to stir, men coming out of their houses, prepared for a day working the fields, and the women sending them off before going back inside to get their children up and do the same thing. It's quiet. The ease of repetition surrounds you. It's…nice. Really nice. You missed that feeling. The unknown isn't as great as it seems.

"Oh, hey." Dave speaks up suddenly, pointing ahead of you at a building. "It's that weapons shop I mentioned." And, indeed, it is. There's a small forge and smelter set up outside of it. Apparently, while you were distracted, the houses had melted away to shops. The streets are busier here, but not by much. There's a short girl standing outside of it, her face smeared with dirt as she pulls a rather heavy-looking bag towards the door. She seems to be struggling with it, and you honestly aren't surprised at all when Dave changes course and heads towards her. You simply follow wordlessly.

She looks up when she hears you approaching, smiling when she notices Dave. "Hey!" She drops the bag with a heavy thump, waving in greeting. "Nepeta is positively ecstatic to see her friend!" She gives Dave a quick hug that he returns, ruffling her hair, before pulling back. "Oh! A possible companion?" She looks up at you, frowning quizzically.

Dave nods, putting a hand on your shoulder. "Absolutely. This is Karkat. He's new in town and from what I've seen, a little short on friends." You elbow him hard in the side, and he has to muffle a laugh.

"Uh, sure." You shrug, deciding to just go with it. "Nice to meet you… Nepeta." You have to guess at her name, but when she doesn't object, you simply accept that, too. So she talks in third person sometimes. How… charming. You extend your hand for her to shake, and she does, smiling as she proceeds to almost crush every bone in your hand with the strength she uses. It goes without saying that you have to blink back pain-filled tears. Once she lets go, you cradle your hand to your chest as discreetly as possible. Luckily, Dave almost immediately moves the conversation forward, so he doesn't notice.

He studies the bag for a moment, giving it a little nudge with his foot before he turns to Nepeta. "Latest kill?" He asks, and she nods.

"Yes! It took a week, but the ferocious huntress stalked and took down this mighty beast." She reaches over, pulling the flap of the bag back a bit for Dave to see, and you notice antlers and something red peeking out before she closes it again.

They start talking about how much she can get for venison and such, while you stand there in a slight daze. How… how in the Hell did the tiny, itty-bitty girl standing before you manage to take down a fucking deer by herself? She looks to have just gotten back too, and she's not wearing any armor. She doesn't have any weapons that you can see. And you know for a fact that the hunting grounds for deer are miles out of town, so does that mean she killed a deer with her bare hands by herself and then lugged it back to town? God damn. No wonder she looks exhausted. She puts on a good front, but you can see past Nepeta's act. She's ready to drop.

"Do you need help lugging that inside?" You ask after a moment of consideration. Nepeta and Dave both seem a little surprised by your offer, but she recovers first.

Nodding rapidly, she gives you a grateful smile. "Yes, please! It would be so nice of you. The hunt is a satisfying but tiring experience."

You just grunt in acknowledgement, moving around to grab one end of the back, and Dave the other. He mouths something at you, and just as you realize that he's counting, he's already begun lifting. You quickly follow suit, straining with the effort. Nepeta doesn't seem to notice, smiling as she pushes open the door to the weapons shop and waves you inside. Your respect for the small girl shoots up to astronomical levels.

After what feels like an eternity but is more like a few minutes, you and Dave - struggling - manage to lug the fucking deer inside and somehow - _somehow_ \- lift it up onto the table. You're both panting with the effort, and you can honestly say that you've never felt more pathetic in your entire life.

Nepeta doesn't seem to notice. "Thank you so much!" She says with a genuine smile, wrapping you in a hug. You jerk in surprise, almost jumping out of the embrace, but then you resign yourself to your fate and let her nuzzle into your chest. She stays far longer than you are comfortable with, not pulling away until you awkwardly begin to pet her hair.

She then proceeds to hug Dave, who pets her immediately, and gives you a smug smile when his hug ends up only lasting a few seconds. You scowl, glaring a little at him. Dave merely shrugs, holding in a laugh as he grabs you by the wrist.

"We'd love to stay, Nepeta," Dave begins, and you roll your eyes. Yeah. You'd just love to stay. "but I promised Karkat a tour of the town, and it looks like you've got your work cut out for you with your latest kill."

Frowning at the bloody bag on the table, Nepeta nods a little. "Yes. You're right." She sighs dejectedly. "Go on, then. I can gut a dead animal myself."

Your stomach churns at the thought, and Dave thankfully pulls you out of the house before you can make your disgust clear all over the floor. God, fuck. You should have a stronger stomach for someone with your profession, but Jesus, you never tortured anyone like that. A quick stab and you were done. Some people like the long, torturous way, like he did, but-

But you don't want to think about that.

"Well." You begin as Dave shuts the door behind the two of you. "She was… something." You settle on finally.

Dave smirks a little bit. "You know," he drawls, and the tone in his voice tells you that whatever he says next won't be good, "she's single."

You scoff, stomping hard on his foot as you continue walking towards the city center. "Fuck off." You grumble. "I'm not interested in a relationship." Not now, and not ever. You've let people close before. And it was probably the worst decision you've ever made.

Something in your tone must tell Dave that you're serious, because his smile falls, his joking tone gone. "Alright." He says quietly, following just a few steps behind you. "You wouldn't, by chance, want to talk about it, would you?" He asks tentatively.

You shake your head. "No. I wouldn't." You feel a little guilty for how sharp your voice is, but you ignore the feeling. If you're going to hang around him, he needs to know what topics are absolutely off limits. Dating is one of them. Your past is another, but he hasn't tried to pry into that just yet.

He nods, his frown deepening, but thankfully seems to pick up on your hints and drops it. "Alright." Dave mutters under his breath. You don't reply. You're too busy wiping away the tears burning your eyes. God, when was the last time you cried? Years, at least. You haven't cried since he-

Well, it's just been a while. You'll leave it at that.

A tense silence falls between the two of you, but you don't really mind. As long as he isn't prying. This time though, you try to stay out of your lingering thoughts, instead focusing more on your surroundings. The buildings around you grow more familiar the longer you keep walking. Houses disappear completely, and shops take form. Stalls with people yawning as they set them up for the day. The highlight of traffic is at noon, but there's always early risers. Always competition. Always something to do. Money to earn, people to cheat. The market never changes no matter what town you're in.

After another minute of walking, you reach the market center where you and Dave met just the other day. It looks a lot different without throngs of people bustling through it, but it's still impossible to mistake. You clearly mark the bakery where Dave works, and see the boy his age from the day before already outside and setting up. Again, your surprise is nowhere to be found when Dave immediately heads over to him.

"John!" He greets, waving, and the brunet smiles widely and waves back. You were right the day before. Friends. The best of friends too, if you're assuming correctly.

Dave goes around the side of the booth, hugging him close. You pay close attention, noticing how Dave's hands hug his waist, and the faint smile on his face as he buries his nose in John's hair. The moment seems tender on his half, but it's clearly not to John, who pulls away after a few moments. If he sees the way Dave's expression crumbles for a split second, he doesn't mention it. He must be incredibly dense then, because he's still smiling like he's greeting a friend, and not a person who clearly wants to be more.

They start talking about something exceedingly pointless, and you tune out. Huh. So… Dave likes John, huh? That would explain why he isn't so keen to be around Jade. But what you don't get is why. He seems to have connections in the palace, so he should know about laws. Actually, anyone should. And the law specifically states that a man who loves another man the way he would a woman is a crime punishable by beheading. You don't really care who Dave likes, but you can't help but wonder why he would risk death for a guy that clearly has no idea how he feels. You don't think Dave would keep his feelings secret if John could reciprocate them. Of course, you don't want to assume too much. Maybe they're just friends and you're seeing feelings where there are none. Maybe they _are_ dating in secret. What do you know? You're not going to ask. It's not really any of your business.

"Karkat." John waves a hand in your face to get your attention, and you're yanked back to the present. "Karkat, are you in there?" He jokes, smiling.

You scowl, brushing his hand out of your face. "Yeah, what is it?" Personal space. You need to teach him what that means, otherwise you don't know how you're ever going to get along with this guy.

"Dave says you're looking for a job?" He points at Dave, who inclines his head at the recognition, and you nod. "You know, me and my dad are always looking for helping hands." John says, his voice taking a song-like quality towards the end of his sentence. "Dave is a huge help, but he only works every-other day, and even then, he can only work for a few hours." He sighs. "It helps, but it's been a lot harder to meet orders on time since Jade moved out to take over grandpa's orphanage."

In reply, Dave just shrugs. "Hey, you know how important the place was to the old man. It only makes sense that she'd want to keep it alive. Preserve his memory and ideals and all that." He waves a hand dismissively.

"Is Jade your sister?" You ask curiously, raising an eyebrow. You kind of figured they were related in some way based on their similar physical traits, but you were never really sure until now.

John shakes his head, waving his hand a little and making a face. "She's my cousin." He tells you. "My mom died giving birth to me, and her parents - my aunt and uncle, since our grandparents were brother and sister - left her with her grandfather while they want on a trip to the town over. They never came back, and we never heard if anything happened." He shrugs. "So Jade and grandpa spent a lot of time together. I guess that makes her feel like she's responsible for taking care of the orphanage. Her reasonings don't really matter, though. Long story short, we need some employees that can work longer hours."

Well, the story was a bit interesting, but unfortunately for John, you are, in fact, not interested. "Sorry." You shake your head. "I appreciate it, but I've literally never cooked anything in my life. Plus, I have another job in mind." You explain as politely as possible. And it is surprisingly polite. You're proud of yourself.

John grimaces, sighing and nodding a little. "Alright. Thanks anyway. I'm sure I'll find someone." He sighs a little, and if you cared even the slightest bit, you might have felt guilty.

The door to the bakery opens, and the three of you all turn to look simultaneously. "John." The brunet's dad waves him over. "I need your help with something. Come here."

Nodding a little, he gives Dave a small smile. "Later?" He asks with a tilt of the head.

"Later." Dave agrees. You do both him and you a favor and pretend not to notice the lovesick expression on his face as John walks away. God, it's almost enough to make you sick. Too sweet. Way too sweet and hopeless for your tastes.

Once the door to the bakery shuts, both people out of sight, Dave turns to you. He seems completely at ease, like he isn't aware that you just saw his feelings on full display. He probably doesn't even know that he looks at John like that. Maybe you could feel that way for someone. Someday. Right now, you just have to focus on your main objective, though. Everything else will come later. Once you're out of this shitty organization.

"So," Dave claps his hands together, looking around the marketplace, "this area isn't even close to the most interesting part of town, so I'll give you a quick run through of the more important shops." You nod, showing him that you agree, and he starts pointing.

The market, you quickly realize, isn't so much a market as it is a circle of the most useful buildings in town. Or, at least, the first ones built here. The town sort of fans out around it, making this the literal center of life for the people here.

"Over there is where you can get cheese and milk." He gestures towards a small shop, tucked between two much bigger and eye-catching ones. "That is, if you can stand the owner." Dave grimaces. "Yeah, he's a piece of work. But his shit is good, you know? It's infuriating. Still, it's always an option if you know someone with the patience of a saint." Good to know. You file that information away for later.

He turns completely around, now pointing you towards an empty stand. "Alright, so, that one is empty right now, but trust me, the lady that owns it has the best jewelry in town. Maybe the whole country. They're pricey, sure, but gold necklaces encrusted with rubies makes a great gift. Just, uh, in case you change your mind about courting." Dave glances at you carefully, then clears his throat and points to the shop to the right of the jewelry stand.

"That place has medical herbs and bandages. Things like that. Tonics meant to boost the healing rate, and leaves that help get dust out of scraps and cuts. It's pretty handy. The guy that runs the place is a little… eccentric, but nice. It might be useful for you to know where it is. Maybe. I'm not really sure." You just shrug. You're not sure yet if you'll be needing medicine.

Dave waits longer than what is probably necessary for you to reply, but once it becomes clear that you're staying silent, he moves on. "That stand has fresh fruit and vegetables every few days." He gestures at the stand next to John's. "They're pretty good, I guess. Just make sure to eat them fast if you buy. Rotted fruit is not good. Trust me."

At this, you can't help but laugh a little, and Dave smiled in relief as the comfortable atmosphere from before settles back around the two of you.

"The pub, the butcher's, and the clothing store." He points at three buildings in rapid succession. They're all right next to each other, so that makes sense. He did say that he wanted to make this quick. "And, my favorite business of all," the sound of hoofs clopping on the stone path draws your attention, and you look behind you just in time to see a horse drawn coach entering the market, "the public coach." Dave grins, grabbing your hand and pulling you over to the vehicle.

You don't like to trust people unless you have to. You're especially wary if that person is a complete stranger. And based on the professional way Dave hands the man a couple silver pieces before climbing into the coach, he's someone that Dave has never met. Regardless, it's just a stupid coach ride, so you sigh and climb into the seat across from your tour guide. That is the only reason you get into the thing. It has absolutely nothing to do with the pleading, wide-eyed look Dave was giving you. You didn't even notice that. Not at all.

He points out things as the coach moves forward - to where, you aren't sure - and you do your best to make a mental note of where each thing is. He shows you the well, where you are allowed to get water for free so long as you bring your own bucket or container to carry it in. A theater that is clearly meant for the upper class, if the surplus of gold decorating the outside is any indication. Dave points out the jousting arena in the distance, talking animatedly about it. It is, unfortunately, closed to the public when there's not a show, but it's still an impressive structure. You can see it through the gaps in buildings as you ride past them, and it's huge. Bigger than it probably should be, but Dave is quick to tell you that it's only so large because the population of the town won't stop growing. And most people love to watch jousting, regardless of how much money they make. The only good part of this is, as the population has gone up, the prices for seats have gone down. Since they can make the same amount for less, the managers or whoever is in charge of the price apparently didn't see any benefit to overcharging people.

After that, Dave is quick to point out both the church for worship and prayer, if that's your thing (it's not), and the public smelter and forge. There's not a lot of people there, but you do see one guy hitting his sword to force it into shape, and another that's melting down what appears to be iron. You don't usually make your own weapons, but one never knows what could be important, so you keep it in the back of your mind.

"Oh, wow." Dave speaks up suddenly, his vision trained on a spot just over your shoulder. You frown, turning to see what he's talking about, and freeze. "So they're finally tearing it down, huh?" He continues, oblivious to your inner turmoil. The coach stops upon his request, and you're too dazed to resist when he pulls you out after him.

The place is as familiar as ever, despite the years that have passed. You were fourteen when you left. Now, you're nineteen, and despite the relatively short time, the place has fallen into ruin. The wing that held the bedrooms has collapsed in on itself, but that's not what draws your attention. You walk past the freshly painted sign (the words "TO BE DEMOLISHED" printed on it) and approach the swing set with a blank look on your face. You reach out, a shaky hand tracing down the frame.

A memory twitches at the corners of your mind, and then little you is sitting on the swing set, looking forlornly at the ground. You know what's coming next before you hear the voice.

_"Hey."_

Both you and mini-you look up at the same time. Your expression crumbles and emotion makes your throat tight. Your younger self just looks curious and a little bothered, oblivious to the future.

 _"Hey."_ Little you replies. You want to look away. You can't.

"Karkat?" Huh. You don't remember anyone saying that-

Dave's hand on your shoulder is suddenly heavy and real. Your ghosts flee the scene, and all you can see is the present. Your past is safely under lock and key. At least for now.

"Karkat, are you alright?" His voice is heavy with concern and worry. You hate it. You don't want him to care about you. And you wish you didn't care about him.

You shrug his hand off your shoulder, turning your back to the old swing set. "'M fine." You murmur, looking at the ground. "Can we just leave? Now?"

The worried frown on his face only deepens, but to your relief, Dave nods, leading you back to the coach. The driver doesn't spare you even a second glance, merely taking the coins from Dave's outstretched hand and asking where you want to go. At this, Dave looks to you.

You only think about it for a second. "The castle." You say. And when Dave gives you an odd look, you elaborate. "I want to interview for that job you mentioned. The other day? Now seems like a good time."

Dave nods, but he still looks a little unsure. "Alright. Well, we can't just drive right up to the castle. We're not important enough for that. But, uh, we can drive over to where I stay? Then you just have to follow the path. Does that work?"

You hum in approval, and Dave stares at you for a second longer than you're comfortable with before giving the directions to the driver. You don't mind having to walk. It will give you some time to clear your head. Fuck, you are getting so tired of thinking about him. It seems like all you ever are is tired. Maybe you deserve it, though. Surely, if you hadn't dragged him into it, he would still be alive. And with you. You bet that he could have this job done within two days. He always was better at this than you, even if it was your idea to begin with.

The coach comes to a stop outside of a building you don't recognize, and you blink in surprise. You hadn't even noticed your surroundings changing. Regardless, you ignore the hand Dave offers you and step onto the stone path. You both turn to watch the driver go, silence between you until he disappears over the horizon.

"This is where I live." Dave says finally, gesturing at the building. It's pretty big, you realize. Kind of like an inn, but not. Your bedroom at the inn has only a bed and dressers. The rooms here probably have kitchens and a public bathhouse somewhere else on the lot. "There's no food provided like an inn, but I don't really need that, anyway." He shrugs. "So, uh, my room is 4B. You can come up and see me when you're done interviewing, if you want. I have some tea if that's a thing you're into." He gives you a quick glance out of the corner of his eyes, and clears his throat. "They should let you know pretty soon if you got the job. Just go up there, tell the guard at the gate what you want, and the rest should be pretty self-explanatory."

You simply nod, taking a deep breath. "Thanks." You say, but you don't move. You should start walking. But instead, you find yourself turning to Dave. "And… I mean that. Thank you. You've done a lot of shit for me that you really didn't have to." You say quietly.

Dave shrugs. "I just like helping people." He replies, just as quiet. "You… seemed like you needed it." He's looking at you like you're the most broken thing he's ever seen. Like one wrong step will shatter you. And as much as you hate the look of pity in his eyes, it's been so long since someone actually _cared_. Since someone looked at you like that. You hate yourself even more for wanting to let him hold you. Comfort you, and tell you that it's alright. But if he's not your problem, then you're not his problem, either.

You turn, looking at the path that will lead you to the completion of your mission. Dave stands silently behind you. He mentioned that he has tea in his room. You like tea. You could just forget this whole thing and start over. But your boss doesn't tolerate quitters or failure. She's watching. You don't know how, but she is. She always is. You can tell.

"See you afterwards, then." You murmur, and he nods. You almost wish that he will stop you. One step, two steps, then three, and you're out of reach. He doesn't move. You're honestly not surprised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It doesn't really make much sense to me for Nepeta to use cat puns in this AU, but if you want to read what she says and make cat puns in your mind, then be my guest. It doesn't really matter, because she won't be in this story much since I'm awful at writing her and don't want to subject you guys to too much of that.
> 
> However, all of the trolls will eventually be mentioned and every character will be in at least two chapters. I don't believe in one-time appearances.
> 
> Also, for the time being, my lovely girlfriend has agreed to be my proofreader. My usual is too busy to do it, and I hate denying you guys of DaveKat.


	3. If You Close Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But if you close your eyes,  
> does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?  
> And if you close your eyes,  
> does it almost feel like you've been here before?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NaNoWriMo is really helping me get through these chapters fast. I'm already done with chapter six as I post this.
> 
> And by the way, if you guys have any theories, I'd love to hear them. This story is going to get complicated (especially when it switches over to Dave's point of view about half way through the story). There is a lot to think about if you know where to look for the clues I leave.
> 
> I split this story into two acts. Between them, there will be a big, important intermission, as well as intermissions between subacts. For example, right now, this is Act 1 Act 1. After chapter six, there will be an intermission, which will bring us to Act 1 Act 2, and so on. Act 1 only has three subacts, but I'm not sure about Act 2 just yet. I'll let you guys know when I figure it out. I'm going on a short hiatus with this story after Act 1 is done though, so I'll have plenty of time to think about it.

 

Security around the place is tighter than you imagined. It's impressive, really. Or it would be, if it wasn't such a huge inconvenience. You're about half a mile away from the actual castle, and what do you get? A wall. A huge, tall, thick as fuck stone wall. You don't even see cracks where they melded the stone together. No wear and tear. It's just a solid wall, maybe three stories tall, and you really wish that someone had informed you of that before you accepted this job. Because you're seriously starting to regret it.

You stand there for a moment - just staring - until you catch the attention of a guard. "Hey!" He shouts none-too kindly, glaring down at you from his spot in one of the watchtowers. Did you mention that they have watchtowers? There's one on either side of the drawbridge. Oops. That one slipped your mind, too. They have a giant wall with a moat around it, and a drawbridge to seal the deal. You don't have a giant measuring stick, but if you had to guess, you would say that it's a ten foot drop, and that's just to the water's surface. You have no idea how deep it actually goes, and you don't want to find out. "Explain your presence, or leave! Do not reply, and be attacked, trespasser!" The guard continues. You nearly forgot about him.

"Uh…" You have to think about it for a moment. The guard in the other watchtower is leveling a bow at you, arrow poised for launch, and it's really hard for you to talk under pressure like this. Your mouth dries out, and your hands get clammy, and it's awkward for everyone involved. "I, um, heard that there's an opening for a new gardener?" You try. It seems like such a flimsy excuse, but it must work, because the guard who was talking to you gestures for the other to lower his weapon. He does, albeit begrudgingly.

"So you're interested in the job?" The first guard asks, scrutinizing you from his high vantage point. The most you can manage is a nod. That works for him though, because he turns to shout at someone down below, on his side of the wall. His words are muffled, but he must be telling someone to lower the drawbridge, because soon you're backing up, and the wooden platform produces a plume of dust when it hits the ground. You cough, waving it away, until the sound of footsteps catches your attention.

Another guard, one you haven't yet seen, is walking across the drawbridge towards you. "Hello." He says, his voice deep and rumbling. You expect him to go in for a handshake, but he keeps his hands clasped firmly behind his back. "I am glad you are here." He continues. "His Highness was beginning to worry that no one would respond to the job opening. This will relieve him. It does not do him well to concern him with mundane matters such as this."

"Yeah…" You nod slowly. This guy is so unnerving. Why is he so big and… sweaty? Is that really sweat? He looks like he just took a dump in the moat. You're going to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that he is not, in fact, soaked in sweat. You're nice like that. "I'm… a considerate guy. Apparently."

He nods like you just said the most profound shit ever, and turns, gesturing for you to follow. "My name is Equius Zahhak." He tells you as you follow him. The drawbridge closes behind you, and the thud of it shutting feels like a death sentence. What did you get yourself into? "You may remember that if you so choose, but I doubt we will ever see each other again even if you begin working here. I normally guard His Highness directly, but he insisted that I would be better suited for this job. For the time being, of course. Until such time as we can fill the gap in our staff."

You blink. "You seem really loyal to the king." You say with a light tone. You don't really care about the way he regards anything, actually. You're more worried about watching your surroundings. He talks really slowly, like he has to consider every single word before he permits himself to speak, so it gives you a lot of time to zone out. The castle is much closer now, but the good news is that there isn't another wall around this one. Just another moat, but it's off in the distance. From what you can tell, this one is right up against the castle, which is good for you. Breaking into this place shouldn't be impossible, then. If you get the job though, it might be easier to do it while you're on duty.

Equius stops walking, looking down at you with a deep frown on his face. You freeze up, almost forgetting to breath as he stares at you with a perfectly unreadable expression. "Of course I am." He says finally. "Are you not?"

You open your mouth to reply, but Equius doesn't wait for you to answer. He just starts walking again, and you can't help but be relieved. Nothing was going to come out of your mouth except that stupid wheezing sound you make when you don't know how to answer. He probably knows this, and you're both grateful and worried.

The rest of the walk is silent. You don't mind. His presence is unnerving, but it's slightly more bearable when he's silent. The walk also goes much faster when he's silent. It seems like no time at all has passed before you're standing in front of the drawbridge. Equius puts a hand out, gesturing for you to stand back, and signals up at the sentry. A second later, another plume of dust is in your face. Your eyes sting, but Equius seems unbothered by it. He just steps onto the drawbridge and heads inside. He doesn't gesture for you this time. You're just expected to follow, so you do.

The inside is a lot less… fancy than you were expecting. The Great Hall isn't overflowing with lacy decor and gold to show off the wealth of the royal family. It's actually disturbingly empty. There's no portraits, not even of the King and Queen. There's a lot of doors, though. About ten, all going off down different halls. Some doorways are more impressive than others, but Equius leads you towards a small door to the left, so you follow instead of exploring. You actually missed this door on first glance, which isn't like you. You must be slipping. That isn't good.

You're a little surprised that Equius' hulking mass can actually fit down this hall. It's a little tight, even for you, but he doesn't seemed bothered by it. "Here." He says suddenly, his gruff voice echoing along the stone walls. He steps to the side, revealing a wooden door. You can see where the hallway makes a right turn a little further down, but that isn't your destination. At least for the time being.

You reach for the doorknob, but Equius stops you, grabbing your wrist. You wince at the unnecessary tightness and strength behind his grip, and he immediately lets you go. You don't even think he meant to hurt you, and that's honestly terrifying. How fucking strong is he? "I will wait here for you to finish." He tells you seriously. "Assuming you do not make the cut, I will escort you out."

You raise an eyebrow. "And if I do make the cut?" You ask hesitantly.

He's quiet for a long moment. "I suppose we will see." Equius says finally. "You may enter now. He is waiting for you."

Alright, well, as weird as that exchange was, it's a huge relief to duck into the other room and be with literally anybody else. You'd even take your boss right now, even if she absolutely terrifies you. To your relief though, the only one on the other side of the door is a skinny guy about your age. Older, you think. But not by much. He's taller than you of course (who isn't?), but he's so skinny that you almost worry for his health. It's not malnutrition by the looks of things though, so maybe he's just skinny by nature. Either way, you don't want to shake the hand he offers you. You feel like even the lightest touch will shatter his bones.

Still, he's giving you an expectant look, so you close the distance between him and you and shake his hand. His bones, to your surprise, do not break, and he sits down in one of the two chairs in the room, scribbling something down on a piece of parchment. You stand awkwardly, waiting for him to finish. The room is, like the Great Hall, pretty empty. The only thing here is the two chairs and a small table with rolls of extra parchment on it and a candle. There's a few candles lining the walls as well, since it would be unwise to put a window on the first floor.

"Alright." He sighs after a moment, regaining your attention. "Take a theat." He tells you, pointing to the other chair. You take a moment to listen, caught off guard by his lisp, but do as you're told. "What'th your name?"

"I'm Karkat… Vantas." You reply after a pause. You're hesitant to give out your last name to a stranger, but this is a job interview, and he needs to know that. He writes something - supposedly your name - on the paper, and dabs his quill in a small pot of ink before his focus is back on you.

"Okay, Karkat, I'm going to make thith quick for the thake of both of our thanitieth." He says with a flat look. It's quickly becoming apparent to you that he would rather be anywhere else than here right now. "My name is Thollux Captor. And, no, you do not pronounce my firtht name with a "th" thound. That'th jutht my lithp ruining my fucking life, ath uthual. I find thith job degrading and inthulting, but the king told me to interview people for thith louthy job, tho I am." Tho- _Sollux_ dabs at the ink again. You think that it's a nervous habit. "Any quethionth before we continue?"

You open your mouth.

"Any quethtionth that _don't_ pertain to my lithp?"

You close your mouth.

Sollux gives you a clearly forced, thin-lipped smile. "That'th what I thought." He sets his quill down and reaches for a rolled up parchment that looks worn. There's already writing on that one, and he clears his throat. Those must be the interview questions, then. You are so ready to lie through your teeth at this guy.

"Do you have any experienthe being a gardener?" Sollux asks, poising his quill above the other paper to write down your answer.

You don't actually have to lie for this one. "Yes, actually." You nod. "See, I was raised in an orphanage, and out back, we had a garden. Or, well, the lady who ran it did. And she made us tend to it. I got pretty good at it. Unsatisfactory work got you whipped." You explain. Sollux is giving you a funny look, so you get to the point. "I'm good at tending to flowers and shrubs. Trees, not so much, since I've always been so short, but I'd say that I'm pretty good with decorative plants, if that's what you mean."

He waits for you to continue, and when you don't, he scribbles a few words down. You take that as a good sign. If they were looking for food gardeners, surely, he would tell you that. Wouldn't he?

"Thecond quethtion ith an opinion quethtion. But there ith a right anthwer." Sollux shifts in his seat, tapping his quill against the table absentmindedly. "Ith it better to be perfect and late, or good and on time?"

"Good and on time." You answer immediately. That was how it worked at the orphanage, at least. If there was one good thing about that woman, it's that she taught you the importance of punctuality.

Sollux nods, but whether that means your answer was good or bad, you aren't sure. He writes something down, and moves on. "Another opinion quethtion. What'th your definition of hard work?"

You hesitate. "Hard work is…" Fuck. Alright, what does he want to hear? That's the important thing about this situation. Honesty can wait for when you're not trying to kill someone. "Hard work is pulling your own weight." You say finally. "Maybe sure the job gets done, no matter how difficult. It's being able and willing to put in the effort for yourself." God, you hope that answer is good enough.

This time, Sollux's expression doesn't change. He just write a few things down and moves on. You decide that looking for tells is pointless. If you get it, you get it. And if you don't… then perimeter stalking is always an option. Albeit a bad and not very productive one.

"Three quethtionth down…" He mutters, squinting at the page in front of him. Bad eyesight, you suppose. "There'th not a lot. Hith Majethty liketh to keep thingth brief. Jutht one more." You have to smoother a sigh of relief. You don't know how long you could have kept this up. "How well do you work with others?"

For this one, you just shrug. "People are…" You don't want to think about your other "co-workers" right now, "fine." You settle on. "I don't usually go out of my way to make friends or talk on the job." You explain.

Again, Sollux just nods, writing something down. "Alright." He sets to quill down and rolls up the parchment with your answers on it, standing up. "You thtart tomorrow." And, to your absolute surprise, he then holds the parchment over the candle, dropping it and letting the small flame consume it until a pile of ash is dusting the surface of the table.

You stare, bewildered, and he takes his time with continuing. "I don't need it." He says with a shrug. "Normally, I would thave up all of thethe pointleth interviewth for review, but no one elthe hath come for the job in the two weekth it'th been open, and the king wanth it filled ath thoon ath pothible. Tho congratulationth. You're literally the only choice we have. Be here at dawn tomorrow for a tour and tutorial from our head gardener. Her name ith Kanaya Maryam, and I thugetht you pay careful attention to everything the tellth you. There won't be repeath, or room for error." He gathers up the extra papers in his arms, nudging the door open with his foot. You follow with a blank look on your face. Sollux doesn't say anything to Equius, just gives him a look, and walks away, down the hall before turning right and heading deeper into the castle.

You watch him go, then turn to Equius. He looks less confused than you undoubtedly look. But not by much. "I… suppose I'll be seeing you around, then." He says finally. "Congratulations. Good… luck to you. Not that you will need it with such a simple job. Follow me out." He starts walking, and you, predictably, listen and follow him.

You're not a fool. Clearly, the staff has no intention of letting you wander the palace alone. At least not yet. But if there's one thing you're good at, it's earning trust you most definitely don't deserve.

* * *

You're not entirely sure why you end up on Dave's doorstep. You could have walked past his shitty apartment home, but you hadn't. You made the conscious decision to walk inside, climb three flights of stairs, and suddenly you're having problems knocking. What the fuck is wrong with you? Well, you are already here. And he did offer, so…

You take a deep breath, knocking firmly a few times and taking a steps back while you wait for Dave to answer. He should answer, after all. He doesn't seem like a very busy guy.

And sure enough, the door swings open a few seconds later. "Oh, hey, Karkat." Dave greets you with a wave and a small smile. "Here- come in. I can make that tea I promised. If you want." He offers as he pushes the door open wider so you can come in.

It's seriously beginning to annoy you. How concerned Dave is with "if you want" something. You swear that he uses that sentence enough to make it his catchphrase. But as much as it bothers you, you're still thirsty, so you accept his offer and step into his apartment regardless.

The door shuts quietly, and you automatically wait to hear the sound of a lock clicking shut before you calm yourself. You're not Dave's prisoner. You can leave at any time. Definitely. There's no need to be paranoid…

"Here, you can sit down while I make the goods." Dave tells you, pointing to one of the three chairs set up in his living room area around a low table. This place isn't that lived in for someone who claims to have been here for seven years. You suppose that he could have moved, but still. The place feels baren. He has nothing more than the expected furniture. And, based on the looks of what he pulls out of the equally unremarkable kitchen cupboard, tea leaves. So he has chairs and tea leaves and a table. Nice. There's only one other door, and you assume that it leads to the bedroom. It's meant to be a one person apartment, after all. You really shouldn't have expected something bigger. You're not even sure what you were expecting at all. Maybe something more… subtly personal than an apartment that looks like it was empty just the other day.

You take a seat in the chair he pointed out earlier, resting your chin in your hand. Waiting is something you're accustomed to. It's familiar, and you kind of like it. Today has been… odd. You like this change. Having nothing to do is nice.

You hear the sound of flint being struck, and then the unmistakable crackle of fire. In your position, you have your back to Dave, but you don't dare turn around. It's something of a test for you now. You're stubborn - too stubborn - and you want to rule over your instincts. They tell you that Dave should never be further than the corner of your eye, but you don't want to look.

"So, did you get the job?" Dave asks conversationally. The sound of water running lasts for a moment as he fills the teapot and sets it to boil. It doesn't take long, and soon the apartment is silent around you once more.

Starting to nod, you mentally curse yourself when you realize that he's probably not looking at you. You're not going to check, though. Absolutely not. "Yeah, I did." You sigh. "Because I was the only one who showed up. How amazing am I, huh? I got the job based solely on unspoiled experience and talent. No other factors at play, Dave. Just me - being incredible."

He laughs, and you realize that when Dave laughs loud enough, he does this cute giggle-snort thing as he tries to smother the noises. You guess that his laugh makes him self-conscious, but you actually think that it's… adorable? That's a weird word to associate with Dave, but your metaphorical thesaurus must be away on metaphorical vacation, because you can't think of another word to describe it. Fine, then. Adorable it is.

"Hey, don't feel bad about it." Dave says comfortingly once his laughter dies away. "At least you got the job. If it helps, the only reason John's dad lets me work at his place is because John won't let him fire me." He chuckles a little. "I'm an absolutely horrible cook. Mostly, I do clean-up. Stuff like that. Literally anyone else could do it. But I don't mind. They've given me a lot. I… really owe them." His tone takes on an affectionate edge, and you don't even need to turn around to know that Dave's face is flushed right now.

God, you hate that. Surely, there's someone else he could like? Someone who could actually return his affections? You're not going to assume, though. For all you know, John is just a lot better at hiding his feelings and actually feels the same. You're not going to get involved, though. You hate meddling with people's romantic lives. Too bad everyone around you is dense as fuck. You're putting your foot down for this one, though.

A tea cup is suddenly pushed into your empty hands, and Dave is lowering himself into the seat across from you before you can blink. Either he's really fast, or you… really need to learn to think and pay attention at the same time.

The tea smells like peppermint, and you take a careful sip. It's not that bad, actually. It's not even too hot like most of the tea you've had before. It goes down with a warm feeling, the mint taste staying behind. "It's… good." You mutter, admittedly surprised. "Thanks, Dave."

He smiles a little, drinking his own tea with large gulps rather than your little sips. "Hey, I may not be able to cook, but I can boil a pot of water and add some fucking tea leaves for God's sake." He jokes. "It's not that hard. Credit goes to Jade for the tea leaves, though." He confesses. "She has this little herbal garden in the back of the orphanage. It's small, specifically so she can manage it herself. Just for little things like peppermint leaves." His words peek your interest.

Maybe Jade could-? No! You just told yourself that you are _not_ getting involved in Dave's pathetic excuse for a love life! Fuck, why do you even care about who he dates? You've known him for literally a day. Besides. You've tried matchmaking enough times in the past to know that you can't force people into relationships they don't want to be in. And you can pretty easily tell that Dave is _not_ interested in Jade like that. There's awkwardness around them - at least on Dave's part - so maybe they had a relationship in the past? Or he knows that Jade is interested? It's too soon to tell. And, oh yeah, that's right. One other thing. You totally don't care!

You sigh, not wanting to drink anymore of the tea. You're actually not even that thirsty, now that you think about it. However, your hands are really cold, and the warmth that comes from the drink is helping a lot. "I'll have to ask her about getting some for myself." You say, even though you know that you will never do that. Jade and you aren't really on friendly terms. And you don't see that changing anytime soon, either. "But for now, I should probably focus on finding a home to rent so that I have a place to keep the tea leaves. Among other things." You explain.

Hearing this, Dave smirks, finishing off his tea and setting the empty cup down on the table. "Funny you should mention needing a place to stay." He muses. The look on his face earned your automatic distrust, and his words aren't helping. But you don't say anything, just raise an eyebrow as you wait for him to get to the point. You don't know what he's getting at, but maybe you don't want to. Not that you're going to get a choice. "There's a room on the third floor that just opened up." He tells you. Your irrational worries immediately dissolve. "The rent's cheap, so that won't be a problem, especially considering that you have a fancy job at the palace. I've never had a problem with the neighbors, or seen them much at all, really. And the limited space is only a problem if you have ten friends over at once." He explains, looking excited.

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. He really does want to be helpful, huh? "Alright, alright." You sigh, brushing your hair out of your face as you suppress your grin. "I'll talk to the owner about renting the room, alright?"

You're prepared for his enthusiasm. You are, however, not prepared for Dave to stand up, walk over to you, and hug you. "I'll put in a good word for you, if you want." He offers. "It'll be great living close to a friend. Don't get too excited, though. I know I'm great, but I can't hang out all the time. I have places to be, people to see, time to waste." Dave keeps going on, but you are expecting that.

What you are not expecting is for you to lift your arms up and hug him back. It feels just like what hugging him used to be. Warm and comforting, and it should make you tear up, but it doesn't.

You are not expecting to like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a problem with my writing. Namely: I've been distracted lately. Too distracted. But don't worry! Likely, I'll finish Ben 10 before it's even an issue. Omniverse, I mean. I've already finished the other three installments. Five times. But who's counting?


	4. Anywhere But Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secret love, my escape.  
> Take me far, far away.  
> Secret love, are you there?  
> Will you answer my prayer?  
> Please take me anywhere but here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, I am actually shit at writing Nepeta and Equius. Forgive me.

You don't know how you wake up before sunrise day after day. You get plenty of sleep, sure, but you don't understand how your body is aware of when you need to be up even when you're asleep. Dave doesn't come to get your lazy ass up. You never see him this early in the morning, mostly because you have work, and he's sleeping like a normal person. You don't have a rooster like the people who work the fields. You just… get up.

It's surprisingly easy. After the uncertainty of the past five years, your body takes well to routine. Every day starts the same. You wake up about an hour before sunrise, grab some clothes, and trudge down three flights of stairs to the public bath house. That's a glorified word for it. Really, it's just a wooden house with tubs of water in it that you can use to get yourself clean. Sometimes there's soap. Sometimes there isn't. Sometimes the water is warm. Usually it's not. The bath house is an uncertainty, but you spend your days digging through dirt and plants riddled with insects, so you more often than not just suck it up and try to get in and out as fast as possible. Luckily, you're usually alone. Not many people are as willing as your body is to wake up at this hour.

After that, the walk to the castle gives you time to dry off and appreciate the stillness of twilight. It's rather pretty. You kind of want to show Dave. Sometimes. Most of the time, you can keep thoughts of him at bay until after work. You don't understand why you're thinking about Dave all the time. It might be that, out of all the friends you've made, you're the closest to him. Sure, John and Jade are nice enough (she finally warmed up to you), and you occasionally chat with Nepeta when you see her, but there's just something… different about Dave. You don't know what it is, but it bothers you to no end.

"Halt!" The watchtower guard shouts, earning your attention. You sigh, and roll your eyes. You've had your job for a year now, and you know that he knows it's you. And he knows that you know that he knows it's you. He just likes to waste your time with pointless formalities because it bothers you.

The sun is coming up now, which means you don't have time for this. Kanaya will usually wait a few minutes for you, but technically, she does have to report you as a no-show if you're not in the garden by dawn. Or, daybreak. However the fuck they measure that. You're not entirely sure. "For fucks sake." You groan, crossing your arms as you glare up at the guard. You don't know his name, and he doesn't know yours. And that's exactly how it's going to stay. "Just lower the bridge already!" You shout up at him.

You practically feel when he rolls his eyes at you, but regardless, he turns and gestures for the guy on the ground to lower the bridge for you. If he's still expecting a "thank you" after a year, then boy do you have news for him. He's never getting anything from you except sarcasm. It's your gift to the world for being such a piece of shit. He especially deserves your gift. Really, if the universe didn't want you to be sarcastic, then they wouldn't have based your entire personality around it. It's simple logic.

The drawbridge creaks shut behind you, and it takes you a moment to realize that, unlike the first time, the inevitable dust cloud didn't bother you. Huh. Maybe it's not just Equius. It must be something that you get used to.

You decided during the tour on your first day here that Kanaya is probably the best person. Just, in general. She wasn't really great at sarcasm (a problem that you have since fixed), and she was nice and polite almost effortlessly. Normally, people like that annoy you, but when you had the absolute pleasure of watching her break and snap at some incompetent gardener, you figured that there was more to her than what she was letting on. Sure, Kanaya acts like a mother most of the time, but she's a badass mother who can, in fact, wield an axe with startling skill. That first day, you also made a mental note to never piss that woman off. You're just lucky she likes you.

"Karkat." And, as always, Kanaya is waiting for you when you make your way around the side and enter the garden. You would look for faults in the perimeter if you could, but unfortunately, there's guards every ten yards. Nowhere to hide. They still don't trust you to be alone. You're not a fool. As much as you've warmed up to Kanaya, you can pretty easily spot a spy when you see one. Just because Sollux stopped checking in on you after week three doesn't mean that you're not being monitored. "You really must figure out a way to get here on time." Kanaya says in a lecturing tone as you approach her. "I cannot cover for you all the time. As much as I appreciate the bond we have developed since you started working here, my job must also take priority." It's like you said. Definitely a mother.

You sigh, starting to walk deeper into the garden. You have to weed the whole place once a week, and today is the day. Weeding isn't your favorite task, but it's easy and methodical. It gives you and Kanaya a lot of time to talk too, since it usually takes hours to complete.

Kanaya follows you, mirroring your movements as you kneel down in front of some rose bushes. The queen prefers lilies, so those are planted towards the center. White roses are her favorite color, but roses themselves are not her favorite. The ones you and Kanaya are currently tending to are blue. You think they're lovely.

"I know." You say, using your hands to carefully pull up the weed along with it's roots. Kanaya has placed a wooden bucket between the two of you, and that's where you deposit the pesky plant. "The asshole at the gate likes to hold me up on purpose. You know I would be here sooner if I could." You explain.

She merely nods, dumping no less than three weeds into the bucket next to your one. Damn, how is she so good at this? "I know you would." She agrees. And, just like a mom, she somehow manages to make you feel disappointed in yourself without actually berating you.

You both know without having to say it that you'll be waking up earlier than usual tomorrow.

* * *

You have to leave before two o'clock. It's when your shift ends, and a half an hour before the queen takes her daily walk through her beloved garden. Twice a month, you get paid on your way out. It's a pretty nice sum, you have to admit. Enough for you to stay caught up with rent and feed yourself, excluding the money you already had before you got here, of course. You guess that the king and queen are more generous than you thought. Well, that, or they have literal tons of gold and the amount you get paid is less than nothing to them. Either way though, you get paid.

On your way out, you're a little surprised to see Nepeta there. She's just kind of… casually standing there on the path that will take you down to the main gate. For a moment, you consider hiding before she sees you. You're actually alone, which is pretty rare, and you should really take the opportunity to look for hidden entrances. Castles always have one. Or more. Only a fool would stay in a place with just one exit. If a neighboring country attacks, they need to have a reliable way out that the enemy isn't aware of. It's common sense, and you fully intend to exploit it. You aren't stupid enough to think that you can just waltz right in through the front gate.

However, before you can make a decision, Nepeta makes one for you. "Karkat!" She shouts, running up to you with a smile on her face. You are ready for the hug this time, sighing before you reach up to pet her hair. She knows that you don't like hugging in general, but she also knows that you're too polite to make her stop, so she exploits that weakness of yours. A huntress in every sense of the word.

"Good afternoon, Nepeta." You say flatly as she pulls back. If you cared enough, you might bother to fake a smile, but she doesn't really seem to mind either way. You have no idea what you did to get her to like you so much, but whatever it is, you severely regret it. If you could take it back, you would. It's bad enough that you're bonding with Kanaya despite yourself. You don't need Nepeta, too. "So, what are you doing here?" You ask. You don't really care, but you are a little curious. You didn't think that the guards would let a commoner in.

Nepeta shrugs, shifting restlessly from foot to foot while she talks to you. "Waiting for Equius." She says, glancing around. "You know him, right? He's a guard here, and my brother. I'm adopted. Well, kind of. He and dad found me alone in the woods when I was a baby. He's my best friend, and he gets off in a few minutes, which is perfect, because dinner tonight is huge, and I can't prepare it alone."

Wow. You've known this girl a year and you never pieced any of that together. Just- wow. How fucking dense can you be? You've pretty much thrown that "don't get attached" plan out the window, and it makes you feel guilty and like a horrible person for not knowing really anything about Nepeta. You know that she's gone a lot. Hunting, or gathering supplies to make paint. She likes finger-painting, and once or twice, she's shown you some of her stuff. And it was… surprisingly good. She could probably sell her stuff to make money, but when you told her that, she just shook her head. "It's about the joy of the craft." She had explained. "Not about making money."

Technically, she can enjoy the craft _and_ make money, but you got the feeling that she wouldn't have appreciated you saying that, so you kept your mouth shut. Either way, you still don't know a lot about her. You almost want to change that, but then you remember. Oh, right. You don't care.

You nod a little, moving to get around Nepeta. "Well, good luck with that." You say dismissively. Hey, look at that. You did learn something about Nepeta. She can cook. And anyone who tries to point out that you already knew that can go fuck themselves on something ridiculously big and preferably pointy.

You start walking, when she suddenly gasps. Plans of possibly having tea with Dave quickly become a distant dream. "Wait, Karkat!" She grabs your wrist, and you don't bother trying to pull away. Her grip is too strong for that to work even a little bit. "Do you know how to cook?" Nepeta asks hopefully. You swear to God, this girl is eight. She claims to be sixteen, but there's no way that's true. You know without looking back that she's giving you that _look_. The look that makes you feel guilty and awful and completely bends you to her will. Thankfully though, you are saved from having to make eye contact.

"Nepeta." Equius' deep voice breaks her concentration and Nepeta turns her attention to her brother instead. You don't try getting away just yet, though. Lest she be reminded of your presence. You just pray that Equius has something akin to a heart and will get you out of this. You see him sometimes, patrolling or checking in on the other guards, but you haven't shared more than ten minutes with him since the day you came to interview for the job a year ago. So, you're not on the best terms with him. Despite that, you give him your best pleading look, hoping that he'll convince Nepeta to let go. He's older, right? Doesn't she have to listen to him? "What are you doing here?" He asks, crossing his arms and giving her a disapproving look.

She smiles, letting go of you in order to hug Equius instead. Surprisingly, he doesn't seem to mind, his expression impassive as he stoops lower to hug her back. "I came to get your help!" Nepeta says as she pulls back. "I got a big catch yesterday, and I can't prepare it alone!"

Equius sighs, straightening back up. "Nepeta, you know that I can't cook-" Her smile slips into a frown, and she's giving him that _look_. He grumbles to himself, looking away, but nods. "Alright." Equius agrees. "I was going to spend my afternoon at the market, but I will... help you prepare dinner." You almost laugh. Almost. The only reason you don't is because you like your bones where they are - unbroken - and don't want to tempt Equius to change that. Still, you think it's funny how easily Nepeta can get what she wants from him. However, it soon stops being funny as she turns back to you.

"Karkat, will you help out, too?" She asks, clinging to you. You can feel her preparing to use the _look_ so you glance away. "Please? You get to have some of the food, too!" Nepeta continues, begging now. You hesitate. Your resolve cracks. You look up just in time to see Equius glaring at you, as though _daring_ you to say no to her.

You groan, but your hands are tied. "Okay, fine." You nod begrudgingly, and immediately regret it. But at least Equius doesn't look like he's two seconds away from murdering you anymore. "I don't have any plans, anyway." You sigh. "So I'll help with your crummy dinner."

If Nepeta can tell exactly how much you don't want to do this, she doesn't acknowledge it. "That's so sweet of you to offer!" She thanks honestly, as if you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart. "You and Equius are co-workers, and this is a great opportunity for you to get to know each other." At this, you and Equius share a look. You feel like now would be a good time to mention that you hardly ever see him while working, but something in his expression stops you. He's trying so hard to keep Nepeta happy and innocent like this. You… guess that it doesn't hurt to play along.

"Excellent idea, Nepeta." Equius gives her a thin-lipped smile, walking up to the two of you and putting a hand on both her shoulder and yours. "Quite the… bonding experience."

It's pretty fucking clear to you that Equius would rather be doing anything else than bonding with you, but when Nepeta smiles up at him, you can almost - _almost_ \- see why it's worth it. You think that Dave has a better smile, but hers is nice, too. His is better because, unlike Nepeta, he doesn't give it out to just anyone. You have to _earn_ Dave's smile, be it with a nice gesture, a small gift, or even just a funny remark. It's… worth it. Horribly, sickeningly, and disgustingly worth it.

"Oh!" Nepeta turns to you, having just thought of something. "Karkat, you don't by any chance have any experience with cooking a bear, do you?"

You officially regret everything.

* * *

For some reason, even though Equius is a literal walking fortress, you are elected to carry the purchases that Nepeta makes whist in the market. According to her, she needs to get some new knifes for this undertaking, as well as some seasonings. Bear meat is apparently supposed to taste incredible, assuming that it's prepared correctly. She hands you a bottle of olive oil, a sack of flour, a pouch of salt, and a large bag of potatoes, among other things. You stop keeping track, instead just following her around silently and hoping that God will take mercy on you and make your arms fall off. That would definitely get you to believe in him. You might even go to the church to pray. Well, if you had hands, that is.

"Tell me again," You begin as you speed up to walk next to Nepeta, "why am I the one who has to carry all of this shit when, last I checked, neither you nor Equius have broken your arms? But I mean," You shift the items to a more comfortable hold. It's not a huge improvement. "what do I know, am I right? After all, I am new here. Maybe in your town, having perfectly functional arms is a seriously concerning medical emergency. You _are_ the expert after all." You blather on sarcastically.

Nepeta frowns. "Karkat, I'm beginning to get the feeling that you want help carrying those."

If your arms weren't full, you swear to _God_ that you would strangle her. Right here, right now. You don't give a fuck who's watching anymore.

But before you can work out the exact details of one of your better plans, Equius interrupts. "Allow me." He says in a tone that makes you think he's either annoyed by you or really doesn't care. It's hard to tell with him. Either way, he takes half of your things into his arms, and you give him the best smile you can muster. It's not a very good smile, but you think he gets the message. This trip is so much more tolerable now that you aren't worried about your arms going numb.

Is that a little pathetic of you? Yes. Do you care? Absolutely not. Nepeta dragged you out here. If she wasn't expecting you to bitch and moan about it, then… then she's playing even less attention to you than you are her.

Satisfied, you stop complaining and Nepeta goes back to shopping with you and Equius following silently. Luckily, it seems that she didn't have a whole lot to get in the first place, because after just two more stops, she announces that she's done and ready to go home and start cooking.

You almost expect Equius to carry her. Why, you aren't sure, but you do know that it would be oddly fitting if he gave her a piggy-back ride on top of carrying a bulk of the items. You don't know how he does it, but whatever training regimen he's using, you want in. You don't even think he has functioning organs like a normal person. It's just muscle, all the way though. And, yes, maybe you're being over dramatic, but these two are seriously the most ridiculous people you've ever met. If you didn't know better, you would say that they aren't human. But, no, they are. You've just never met anyone like them. That's all.

The walk back to her house is surprisingly fast. You haven't been inside since the first time you met her (when you and Dave carried in that deer) but from what you can tell, nothing has changed. You learned that her house doubles as a weapons shop. Their dad is that big guy Dave is scared to buy from. You've never seen him, and you're perfectly fine with that.

You carry the stuff through the front room (the part of their house that is a weapon's store) and into the back area. They have a kitchen and a dining table that can fit four, as well as stairs going up and another set going down. You haven't been upstairs or downstairs, but the bedrooms are likely above and the basement probably holds food and things of the like. Things that perish easily, like tomatoes, for example. That vegetable, for convenient reference, wasn't on Nepeta's shopping list.

"Here, guys." Nepeta waves you and Equius over to the counter. Or, well, just you. This is Equius' house too, so he knows where everything is. As such, he's already set his things down. You hurry to do the same, just waiting to get this day over and done with. It's not that you don't enjoy hanging out with Nepeta and Equius, it's just- okay, yeah, it's definitely that you don't enjoy hanging out with Nepeta and Equius. But, really, can anyone blame you? They're not exactly the life of the party. And you aren't exactly here of your own free will.

Now, if you were doing this with Dave, you know you would enjoy it a lot more. Or even if he was just here in general. It's not that you're attached to him or anything, but by now you and him are usually hanging out in his apartment, and you don't want him to worry. And maybe you actually enjoy his peppermint tea. It's not weird.

Nepeta scans over the ingredients with a calculated frown, tapping her chin in thought. "Equius." She turns to her brother, and his gaze snaps to her immediately. "I cut up the bear while you were working. Well, kind of." She smiles sheepishly. "It's cut into slivers of meat, and I need cubes to make stew. Three pounds to be exact. Can you do that for me, please?" She asks, giving him the _look_. "It's all downstairs. I just need cubes!"

Equius looks over at you for a split second, then nods slowly, like it physically pains him to agree to this. He walks past you without saying a word, and it's slightly terrifying. Just a little bit. He's looking at you like you killed his father twice. You decide to keep at least two feet between you and Nepeta at all times. If she's nowhere near you, then you can't be blamed if something happens to her. And thus, Equius won't have reason to hurt you. Not that he looks like the kind of guy who _needs_ a reason, but it never hurts to be safe.

"So…" You turn to Nepeta once he's disappeared down the stairs. "What exactly am I supposed to be doing?" You ask awkwardly. Nepeta opens the bag of potatoes, pulling out eight of them and shoving the rest aside.

When she reaches for a knife, you tense, your hand immediately going to your side where your sickles should be. Fuck, you forgot. You aren't allowed to carry weapons into the palace, so you have to leave them at home. You normally get them after work, but you didn't have the chance today. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. What are you supposed to do now?

To your surprise though, Nepeta merely hands you the knife and shoves four of the potatoes in your direction. "Skin them." She says simply. "It's pretty easy, just take the blade and cut of the first layer. See?" She grabs a second knife, but this time you aren't worried. She cuts lightly, taking the skin off as she rotates the potato smoothly, with practiced ease. You watch for a few more moments, then pick up your own knife and do your best to mirror her movements.

When all is said and done, your potato looks like shit and Nepeta is halfway finished peeling her second one. How she does it, you'll probably never know, but you shove your peels in to the pile she's made between the two of you on the counter and move on. Your second one is better, but not by much. Your third one is about the same. In the middle of your fourth one, Nepeta is officially done, and she's watching you work, giving you tips. Things like "not so much pressure" or "going slower makes the lines choppier" and it's… oddly helpful. Kind of nice, too. You like this much better than carrying on a proper conversation.

You've just finished up, Nepeta commending you on your progress, when Equius reappears. Damn. And after you just started to enjoy this whole "cooking" thing. In his arms, he has a pot filled with cubes of raw meat. Bear looks just like regular meat to you. Like venison or pork. Of course, you're no meat connoisseur, so what do you know?

His tense posture loosens a little when he sees that you and Nepeta are actually cooking instead of making out against the wall (or whatever it is he was expecting), and he hands the pot off to Nepeta. It's a large, steel stew pot and it's no doubt heavier than the three pounds of meat in it. You're once again impressed by the relative ease in which Nepeta handles it.

You watch as she shifts the pot in her grasp, placing a lid on top before grabbing the container of olive oil and making her way to one of the doors leading off from the kitchen. She seems to think that you're a gentleman, and she has her arms full, so you think about it for a moment before deciding to meet her expectations. You hold the door open for her, a little surprised to see that it leads outside. Not back to the street, but to their backyard. It's small, and empty save for an impressive-looking cooking station. You can see why they chose to have it outside if it's that big. Fire control can only go so far, and this thing would definitely burn their house down.

Nepeta sets the pot on the metal grate separating the food from the fire, and lifts the top off. She pours some olive oil in (how much, you aren't sure) and replaces the top. Afterwards, she kneels down, setting the olive oil aside and taking two pieces of flint in hand. She tries a few times, hitting the rocks together to try and produce a spark, before the dry tinder finally catches and she has to jump back from the sudden flames. You guess that she has practice, because someone new to this would have burnt their hands. Without a doubt.

That done, Nepeta heads back inside, giving you a smile as she passes you. You realize too late that you're still holding the door open for her, and that she probably thinks you're flirting. Great. Internally, you sigh, and follow her, the door shutting behind you.

"Alright." She claps her hands together, surveying the ingredients laid out over the counter before turning to you. "Karkat, help me dice the potatoes." Nepeta tells you, grabbing you by the forearm and maneuvering you to stand where you were before Equius came up. And, speak of the Devil, she goes to him next. "And, Equius, I need you to…" She puts him far enough away that you aren't too uncomfortable, and hands him the mushrooms she bought, "slice these. I just need about five of them sliced. More if you want. Karkat." She turns to you, and you stop trying to figure out how to "dice" potatoes long enough to look at her. "Do you mind having a lot of mushrooms in the stew?" She asks, and you shake your head. It's a rather tasteless food to you. You really couldn't care less. Nodding, she turns back to her brother. "Then you can cut more if you want." Nepeta says, satisfied.

Once that's finished, she comes back over to you, and you're internally grateful. Equius may not like it as her older brother, but fuck that guy. You can safely say that you are lost in the kitchen without her assistance, and she seems to realize this. She shows you how to dice the potatoes - cut it long ways, then again the short way, and just cut until the pieces are small enough for your liking. It's a lot easier than peeling, since you don't have to worry so much about it looking nice. This time, you can keep pace with Nepeta, cutting smoothly until there's a sizeable pile of potato between the two of you. It's quite a surprise when you reach for another potato, only to find that you've already cut them all. Nepeta laughs a little, quickly smothering the sound, but she's still smiling hard at you. You smile back, just a little. Maybe you underestimated her as a friend. This… really isn't all that bad. You're going to have to ask her for cooking lessons sometime. You like it.

Equius, of course, ruins the moment. He steps up from behind you, sending shivers down your spine as you step back on instinct. You notice that he's cut up way more mushrooms than necessary, and that he's also managed to put marks in the counter with the force he used while cutting. Well, then, that settles it. Any bonding time you will or will not have with Nepeta is only going to happen when Equius isn't home. You're genuinely worried for your life.

"You're done?" Nepeta asks, looking up at her brother curiously. It's a fucking stupid question, since the answer is pretty obvious, but he nods nonetheless. She splits his pile in half, then takes a quarter of that half and pushes it aside. What's left, she takes in her hands and carries it over to your small mountain of potatoes. "There." She says, dumping the mushrooms on top. "When the bear is done cooking, we'll mix this in along with the other stuff and cook that." Nepeta explains, moving away from the counter. You're so accustomed to following by this point that you do it without thinking.

You frown a little as a thought occurs to you. "And how long is that going to take?" You ask. The words come out harsher than intended, but she must not notice, because she just shrugs it off.

"It depends." Nepeta tells you, taking a seat at the table. You take the seat across from her so that Equius can sit between the two of you and stop glaring already. It's starting to creep you out. "The meat needs to be cooked well to kill any parasites, and then it has to simmer with all the vegetables in order to make a well-done stew." You like when she talks this way. It's better than the child-like tone she usually uses, and it makes her come off as actually being sixteen. You much prefer it.

You take in what she says, nodding. "So, maybe another two hours?" You guess. You're hoping that you overshot it so she can correct you.

Nepeta thinks about it for a moment, then shakes her hand in the universal signal for "more or less". "Closer to an hour and a half." She corrects you. "But don't worry - time passes surprisingly quick when you're cooking."

As it turns out, she could not be more wrong.

The next forty minutes or so passes slowly. You wait at the table with her and Equius in silence for the most part, and every ten minutes she gets up to go check on the meat. You want to bash your head against the wall because at least that would give you _something_ to do. Something besides sitting here, bored beyond words, while Nepeta tries to carry on a conversation and Equius doesn't even bother. After a while, he explains that the both of you have physically-demanding jobs, and are tired after working from dawn to afternoon. Nepeta seems to accept this answer, and she mercifully lets the rest of the wait pass in silence.

The next time she goes to check on the meat, she's carrying the pot with her when she comes back in. You notice her wearing oven-mitts, so you don't bother trying to help her carry it. No sense in getting yourself burned. She sets it down on the counter, and removes the lid, letting the smell of it fill the room. And if you're salivating, it's only because you didn't eat lunch. Or breakfast. And, yeah, alright, you're pretty fucking hungry. Normally Dave has fed you by this point one way or the other, and your stomach growls. Nepeta gives you an amused look, and stirs the stew with a ladle, bringing it to her lips to taste.

"Equius, can you bring over the flour?" She asks, setting the ladle down on the counter and picking up a spoon that looks to be the size of a tablespoon, if you had to guess. Nodding, her brother picks the sack up off the floor and carries it over, holding it still and upright as Nepeta dips her spoon in, and pours the flour in to the pot. She does this two more times, then sets that spoon down too, and Equius puts the flour back. He ties off the top of the bag to keep any from falling out, and you quickly lose interest.

You lean forward against the counter, looking sideways at Nepeta. "So, what now?" You ask, eyeing all the ingredients on the counter. "Need to me get you anything?"

Nepeta frowns, tapping her chin in thought, then nods a little. "Yes. Can you bring me the black and cayenne peppers, salt, and oregano?" She smiles a little. "Assuming you know what those are, being as inexperienced in the kitchen as you are." She jokes.

You scowl, and straighten up. "I know what those are…" You mutter, mostly for your own benefit. You don't actually know what a cayenne pepper is, but really, it's not like you have a lot of options. You grab what appears to be a small, red, and pointed banana and slide that over to Nepeta. She adds it to the pot wordlessly, and when you pass her the black pepper, she measures that out with a smaller spoon before dumping it in, too. Feeling more confident now, you pass her the container of salt and the bottle of oregano. She measures them both out before they're added. As a reward, she lets you stir the concoction.

You don't think you need to say what an honor it is.

"Hey, Equius?" She turns to the guard, and he looks up from his position leaning against the wall. "Can you get four cups of water and the potatoes and mushrooms I set aside?" Nepeta asks. He moves to do as told, and she watches with a smile. "Just dump them in - gently. Karkat, keep stirring." She instructs you. You nod, and keep it up. Equius pours in the water, pushing the water level higher than you're comfortable with, and after the vegetables are added, you're a little amazed that it hasn't spilled over yet.

The brew is then deemed "almost done" and Nepeta takes it back outside to simmer with the lid on for 45 minutes. This time, the wait is a lot more enjoyable. Nepeta drags you into a conversation, and you don't fight her on it. As it turns out, you have quite a fair bit in common with her. You both like fighting strategies, and you discuss some of your favorites with her, and vise versa. There's a slight awkward pause when she realizes that your techniques are for people, as well as a curious glance from Equius, but then you fill the silence with a joking laugh and quickly change the topic. When she mentions that she likes to read, you immediately agree. Surprisingly, it's not embarrassing for you to admit that you enjoy romance novels. She does too, and a majority of the conversation is spent talking about your favorite tropes and plot lines. The conversation flows smoothly, and you work up the courage to ask for cooking lessons. To this, Nepeta happily agrees, promising to make you a chef that any woman would happily marry. You laugh along with her, covering your discomfort on the topic with a fake smile. She seems relieved to find that you're single. You just pray that she doesn't get her hopes up. She's a sweet girl, but… not your type. You honestly don't think that you have one. Once upon a time, you did, but not anymore.

45 minutes almost passes too fast for you. Nepeta goes to get the stew, and you find yourself holding the door open for her without having to think about it. God, fuck, you need to stop flirting. Or, well, being a nice guy. Because otherwise, she's going to think that you're flirting. Is that how girls work? You aren't sure.

"Alright, guys." She smiles, setting the pot down in the middle of the table. You didn't notice while you were helping bring it in, but Equius had gotten up and grabbed three bowls and three spoons, setting the table while you were distracted. "We did it, and it smells great." Your stomach agrees, and you bite your lip, impatiently watching as she uses the ladle to fill first Equius' bowl, then yours, then her own. You're still being a nice guy though, so you wait until she's sitting before you start eating.

And, you admit it. It's better than you were expecting. It's actually really fucking good, and your bowl is emptied before you realize it. You turn red, expecting Nepeta and Equius to be disgusted with your lack of table manners, but Nepeta just giggles and refills your bowl for you. The amount of stew she cooked could easily feed around twelve people, but you feel like you could down half of it without even trying. You need to eat more. Starting with the meal that has been oh-so-conveniently laid out before you.

"So, Karkat," Nepeta begins, setting her spoon down in her bowl. It's about half full, you realize. So is yours, except that you're already on your second and she isn't because she can eat properly, "You mentioned fighting people before, right?" She asks.

You tense, looking down at your bowl. Her question is innocent enough, but you don't think she realizes what a sensitive topic this is for you. You're going to have to add that to the list of things you don't want to talk about. Relationships, your past, and now, your fighting history. Still, it would be worse to leave the topic alone and let it brew, so you take a deep breath and nod. "Yes. I did." You admit. "It's in the past, and I'd prefer to leave it there." You say, looking up at her.

Nepeta doesn't look satisfied, but she slowly nods, going back to her stew. "Alright." She says after she's swallowed. "I'll drop it, then." You give her a grateful smile that doesn't reach your eyes.

The rest of the meal passes in silence. Tense, awkward silence that makes you want to cook something else just to make the heavy atmosphere dissipate. This was so much easier when you were peeling potatoes. You wonder why that is. Maybe you just liked having something to do with your hands. You and Kanaya always talk the most while working. Whatever the reason, you guess it doesn't really matter. You shouldn't want to talk. Talking means making connections, and making connections means getting attached and inadvertently getting hurt as a result. Even if it's not an exact repeat of what happened with _him_ , people age. They age and die, and where does that leave you? To grieve. And you've done enough of that for one lifetime already.

You finish your second bowl slowly, no longer hungry. It would be rude to not finish though, so you choke it down. It's tasteless on your tongue, thick and hard to swallow, but you do it anyway. You wait patiently for Nepeta and Equius to finish, staring directly ahead as she finishes her second bowl and he stops after his fourth. You think that Equius could have more if he wanted, but by then, you and Nepeta were both visibly uncomfortable and ready to leave, so he took the merciful path and stopped.

Putting on a fake smile, Nepeta stands up, putting the lid back on and taking the pot into her arms. "I'm going to put this downstairs for storage." She says, the words directed at Equius. "Dad will probably want some when he gets home. Karkat," She turns to you, and you straighten up in impulse, "do you want to stay for some card games?" She asks, a little too hopeful for you to be comfortable with. "You can meet dad if you want."

You pause for a moment, pretending to be thinking about it just to humor her. "No, thank you." You shake your head. "I appreciate the offer, and the supper, but I really should be heading home. I have plans with a friend. And…" your gaze slides over to Equius for just a moment, "I wouldn't want to impose."

You're getting really good at this "polite" stuff. Nepeta's smile falters, but she quickly nods. "Alright. Equius, you can go with him to the door if you want." She says over her shoulder, already heading towards the cellar.

It's a little surprising when he nods and stands up. You didn't think he would actually want to show you out. It makes you more than a little anxious, but since there's really only one exit, it's not like you have a lot of options that won't make you look like a raving lunatic.

You follow Equius back into the front room, brushing past him to reach for the door handle. Before you can though, the breath is suddenly and violently forced from your lungs as he slams you against the door. You make a pathetic, strangled wheezing sound, and Equius pulls back. Not a whole lot, but enough to let you breathe again. That's a good sign. Maybe you might actually get out of this alive.

He has you pinned to the door, one hand pressed firmly between your shoulder blades to keep you there and the other gripping your wrist and holding it against the wall. Your heart pounds with fear-induced adrenaline, and on impulse, you try wriggling out of his hold. All that does is make him apply more force though, and you immediately still as you feel your bones groaning in painful protest. You wait, still, for him to talk. Equius doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would be needlessly physical, so he must have a reason for this.

"I must admit," Equius begins, his deep voice low to keep Nepeta from hearing, "I did not see you as a threat. Your arrival was suspicious, just a week after His Highness made a very dangerous enemy, but I overlooked it. But you say you know how to fight? Kill? And you just so happen to be the only one in town aware of and interested in a job that puts you so close to the perimeter?"

You want to protest - tell him that you had no idea that the king had made an enemy, and that you only took the job because it was the only one available to you - but he quickly straightens back up and his body weight is removed. You have no idea what you did to make him distrust you, but whatever it is, you are going to avoid doing that particular thing for the next twenty years.

Again, you reach for the doorknob. He doesn't stop you this time, but his words of parting send chills down your spine. "I'm watching you, Vantas. Whatever your plan is, leave the royal family and Nepeta out of it or I can promise I won't leave a body behind for them to bury."

The door slams shut with a dull thud, and though your heart is pounding and you want to sit down and organize this whole mess out in your head, you can't risk that. You walk briskly, trying not to look like you're in a hurry. And, suddenly - inexplicably - all you want to do is see Dave. He'll calm you down. He'll ask you meaningless questions and you'll give him meaningless answers that will distract you from the day's problems and lull you into a brief, but potent, sense of security. You want that feeling - you want it desperately - so it's no surprise when you find yourself standing outside his door.

You raise your hand to knock, hesitating. What if he's not home? Or if he has company? Or if he just flat out doesn't have time for you today? There's a lot of variables at play here. You don't want to burden him.

"Karkat?" Dave's voice draws you from your ponderings, and you turn to look at him. He's apparently not at home. A jug of what you assume to be water is clasped in his hands, and he's giving you an odd look. You suppose that you did just kind of show up unannounced after missing your usual visiting time.

"The one and only." You tell him blankly. Should you be feeling something right now? Maybe joy? Relief? You aren't. It's actually kind of nice. Just you and Dave staring at each other in the hallway, with no complicated emotions to ruin it. And by "complicated" you mean that you really shouldn't be here. You need to be distancing yourself from this guy, and yet…

Dave smiles a little, and yeah. Yeah, you aren't even thinking about leaving anymore. "Good to know." He brushes past you, tucking the jug under his arm and unlocking his apartment door. "Wanna come in?" He asks, twisting his body half-way to look at you. "You didn't show up after work, so I figured you were doing something else and went to do a few errands. But we can still hang out, if you want. The day is still young, and the tea can still be brewed." His smile widens, like he's coaxing you inside, which is completely unnecessary. You wouldn't be able to leave even if you wanted to.

"Sounds like I'm coming inside, then." You agree, smiling despite your best efforts. You can only blame yourself for this. After he died, you were left empty. Empty and needing, and Dave came along and pitied you just the right amount and you fell for it. You fell for his stupid friendship and his stupid tea and stupid smiles. You've dug your grave. And now you have to lie in it.

You follow Dave in, closing the door behind the two of you. He moves to the kitchen, already talking about some pointless thing that happened to him today, and you pointlessly listen. Yeah. This is… exactly what you need. Today has been awful. Yesterday was slightly more tolerable, if only because you actually got to see Dave on time. You don't understand what you're feeling, just that, for the first time in a long, long time, you aren't lonely.

It's a dangerous and incredibly addicting feeling. And you don't want to go without it ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are much appreciated!


	5. The Lonely Moments Just Get Lonelier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you're a lover, you should know-  
> the lonely moments just get lonelier,  
> the longer you're in love, than if you were alone.  
> Memories turn into daydreams- become a taboo.

As predicted, you start waking up earlier. Ten minutes earlier than you used to, to be exact. It's not much, but the change is definitely noticed. Kanaya approves, smiling a little and giving you an approving nod every time you make it to work earlier. It's a little meaningless gesture that makes you feel proud of yourself. You like making her proud, and you like pleasing her. It's not… exactly the same as the way Dave makes you feel, but it's close. Close enough that you latch yourself onto that feeling and hold tight.

It's fucking awful.

 _People_ are fucking awful, because while most of them you wouldn't even bother with, some of them are like Dave and Kanaya and even _Jade_ since she's started warming up to you. They have personalities and care about you, which is _awful_ because it makes you care right back. You want to simply forget your real job and just be their friend. But the very fact that they make you so much as consider that option is what makes you not want to be friends at all.

But there's no way for you to go back on bonds already made, so you suffer silently.

It's been about a year and a half since you arrived, and you're honestly starting to wonder what the fuck you're doing with your life. You have a job that provides steady income, a nice apartment, food every day, and good friends. Do you really need to go through with this job to kill the prince? Most days, you don't even look at the plans. They stay tucked in your satchel, the paper and ink worn after such a long time. When you do open them, you ask yourself why you're even bothering. Then you remember. Oh, yeah. Your boss would fucking kill you and everyone you care about without hesitating if you so much as blinked in the wrong direction. She doesn't like insubordination, or disobedience. She wants you to complete the job, so you will. There's really nothing more to it than that, since you would very much prefer to be stay alive.

"Is something wrong?" Kanaya asks suddenly, breaking your from your thoughts. Weird. You don't remember getting to work, but here you are, kneeling over the ground and putting weeds in the bucket Kanaya always manages to have. You don't know where she gets it from. After this, you fertilize and water and then you're done for the day. Based on the fact that you're currently weeding petunias, you guess that you're about halfway through the garden. And you don't remember any of the work you did to get here. That's probably not a good thing, but you can't put that to the side for a few minutes. Kanaya asked a question.

"I'm fine." You tell her dismissively, adding two more weeds to the impressive bucket full. You don't know why there's so many weeds in the queen's garden, but you have gotten pretty good at picking them out. You have two weeds to every three Kanaya has, which still puts her miles ahead of you, but you're better than when you started at least. "Why? What makes you think that something's wrong?"

Kanaya shrugs, looking like she can tell you're full of shit but that she's going to let you get away with it anyway. "Nothing, I suppose. You have just been very quiet today, and I was wondering if something was on your mind. But we do not have to talk about it if that would make you uncomfortable." And there's that tone. The one that tells you she'll respect your decision to not talk about it, but at the same time, it will disappoint her. You hate that tone.

You sigh, glancing both ways to make sure that no one is around. Luckily, one of the other gardeners, some guy named Jared, you think, just finished with his row and went around to the other side. That leaves you and her alone. "Alright, well…" You trail off, trying to think of something that will satisfy her. Obviously, you can't tell Kanaya why you're really here. Friends or not, you know her well enough to know that she takes threats to the royal family very seriously and will at least get you fired or under closer watch. And you can't risk that, so… "I mean, it's nothing huge, there's just this… girl." That's about as far from the truth as possible, but you can tell that it's what she wants to here because you immediately have Kanaya's full attention. She's not obvious about it, but the way she turns her body towards you just slightly and inclines her head tells you that she's listening.

Wow, you hate this already. "I'm not going to get too detailed about it, but she makes me feel…" You grasp from the right words for a moment, "almost like you, actually." At this, Kanaya arches a brow, and you hurry to clarify, "But, see, while I see you as more of a mother or older sister," She visibly relaxes at that, "I see her as… fuck, I don't even know. She makes me feel important, you know? Like I matter and my opinions and experience and thoughts mean something. We see each other all the time, and I know she likes someone else, but I can't help but feel like _I_ could make her happy. The other guy clearly isn't interested, but I am. She just doesn't realize it? I'm not sure, though. My last attempt at a romantic relationship didn't end well, so I'm not all that eager to try again. But I get this _feeling_ whenever I see her - like if she would just notice me the way I notice her, then everything would be wonderful. My problem is, I just don't know if it's love or very strong friendship, and if it is love, I… I don't think I want it to be."

When you finally stop rambling and look up at Kanaya, she's smirking. You've both stopped working - your dirt-covered hands resting in your lap - and you quickly move to fix that. If only to have something to do with your hands. "It sounds like love to me." Kanaya says quietly, smiling. "I have not had a lot of… experience with that feeling, but believe me when I say that I know what it feels like." She sighs heavily, and her smile is gone.

You want to ask what she means, but something on her face stops you. Some questions, you think, are better left not asked. It doesn't look like all that pleasant of a memory, anyway.

The rest of the work day passes in silence, matching your expectations. Kanaya looks almost lost, as she does her work with emotionless practice. Was this how you looked before she broke you from your ponderings? If so, then you can see why she would have been worried. Her eyes are seeing, but they aren't comprehending. She would probably stick her hand in a fire and not even notice that it's hot, and that's incredibly disconcerting.

At the end of the day, you're hesitant to leave. Kanaya is usually the one who stops you from your work and tells you that it's time to go home. But not today. "Uh, Kanaya?" You ask carefully, shaking her gently. "Are you still alive? Is there someone I'm supposed to notify when this happens? Any form of recognition at all would be fucking fantastic by now."

Kanaya blinks, as if surprised to see you standing there. "Oh. No, there is no need to worry, Karkat. I was just thinking." She says, waving off your concerns.

You raise an eyebrow. "Care to explain?" The tone in your voice says that you're not really asking.

With a sigh, Kanaya begrudgingly nods. "I suppose you deserve an explanation. Here, follow me. I know a place where we can talk in private." She turns, heading deeper into the garden, and despite your suspicions and doubts, you follow.

She leads you through the rows and rows of plants, to the center of the garden where a large and lavishly decorated gazebo is in place. You don't understand how this is supposed to be "private" but just as you're about to say as much, Kanaya takes a seat on the ground behind it and you understand. With the structure between her and the castle, the guards can't see her, and the tall bushes cover her from the other side, too. You nod in understanding, and quickly join her.

"Alright." She sighs. "The reason that I understand how you feel is because I was in love. Am, I guess is the better word. Almost a year. That is how long it has been since I have seen her last." She bites her lip, nervous. "I realize that one week is not a very long time, but love does something odd to your sense of time. It makes one week feel like one month, and one month feel like one year, and every day is agony because you miss them terribly." She stops when she realizes that she was ranting, but you don't mind.

You frown, putting a reassuring hand on Kanaya's shoulder. "I- I'm sorry, Kanaya." You tell her quietly. What else is there to say?

Smiling dryly, Kanaya chuckles, brushing your hand off her shoulder. "There is no need to apologize. Now, sit back, relax, and enjoy my tragic tale of woe."

* * *

_Your name was Kanaya Maryam, and you had a sneaking suspicion that the queen didn't have a miscarry as you were originally lead to believe._

_There was this… girl. A blonde girl who you had only ever seen in windows. She was your age, or close enough, from what you could tell. You didn't see her often, but sometimes you could spot her watching you through the windows in the castle spire. And that alone wasn't too suspicious, until you realized that that area was kept under lock and key, since it was the royal family's sleeping quarters. They would never let a mere servant girl in there. You had actually heard that they clean the area themselves just to make sure that no one gets in. Or out. To you, that seemed like they were being a little too paranoid. But if they had a child to protect? Then it made perfect sense._

_You didn't expect anything to come of your observations. The next time you saw that girl in the window, you waved. She waved back. You couldn't see her very well from how far away she was, but you could have sworn she was smiling._

_A year of this, and one day, you had to stay late. The queen's birthday was coming up, and her prized lilies required specialized attention to keep them vibrant for the occasion. That was when you saw the girl up close for the first time. You don't know how you realized it was her, but it was impossible to deny. She was dressed simply, nothing like what you always imagined a princess would wear. If she was, indeed, a princess at all._

_And she was picking roses._

_You'll pause a moment to let that sink in._

_Picking._

_Roses._

_From the queen's private garden._

_You watched her do this for a solid five seconds, stunned into silence. You had never met anyone with such… audacity! She seemed to prefer the white ones, picking only those and setting them in a woven basket she had hanging from her arm._

_She seemed to notice you staring after five beats, and looked over. You just stared. Then, after so long that you wondered if you had just locked yourself in a stalemate, she smiled. "Hello. I didn't realize that any of the gardeners were still here." She said in a smooth voice._

_That broke you from your thoughts, and you took a step forward. "And I didn't realize that people were allowed to pick from Her Majesty's personal rose bushes." You replied stiffly._

_Something in your voice must have told her that you were upset, because the girl laughed, picking yet another rose. But instead of putting it in her basket, she walked forward, tucking it behind your ear before you could protest. "It's fine." She said as you opened your mouth to argue. "Her Highness doesn't much care for roses, so she granted me permission. I asked first. What do you think I am, some kind of ruffian?" She smiled at you, and something deep inside of you twinged. Your face felt unexplainably hot, and you had the urge to fiddle with your shirt. Whatever she was doing to you, you decided that you didn't like it._

_"O-Oh, um, forgive me, miss." You stuttered out, dropping into a shallow bow and keeping your gaze fixed on the ground. "I did not realize that you were close to the queen. I shall take my leave now, and cease pestering you."_

_To this, she snorted. Actually snorted. Your head snapped up, your eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise. "Oh, come now." She said dismissively. "We were having a perfectly fine time before royalty was mentioned. And me and the queen really aren't that close. I assume that she wanted me out of her hair while she conversed with my father." She explained, adding more roses to her collection. Now, she was moving onto the pink ones, rows of bare rose bushes left in her wake._

_"Your father?" You repeated, frowning in confusion._

_She shrugged. "They're discussing the palace's private army, or something like that. And I guess I was bothering that. Not that I mind. Military is a fascinating subject, but," she grimaced, "apparently it's also, "not something a delicate little girl should worry her pretty little head about"." She made her voice higher, obviously impersonating the queen. She rolled her eyes. "What a witch…"_

_You frown deepened. "I- I am sorry?" You don't know how to talk to this girl. Yes, you were aware that the queen had her flaws, but you had never heard anyone talk about her so venomously._

_"No, you're fine." She sighed. "I'm Rose, by the way. I don't think I mentioned that, did I?"_

_You reached up, brushing your fingertips along the rose in your hair. "Oh. Then is your picking of the roses a humorous jab?" You guessed._

_Rose smiled wryly. "I think you're starting to get it, gardener girl. You can tell me your name, if you want. You don't have to. Care to join me?" She offered you her basket. "I made that myself, you know. I have a flair for the arts and various crafts. There's not much else I can do to pass the time, anyway."_

_"I am Kanaya Maryam." You said politely. You didn't take the basket from her, but rather, you took two roses and kneeled on the ground. Rose watched with interest, kneeling down to see what you were doing. "Can you make flower crowns?" You asked, your nimble fingers quickly tying the stems together. You reached for another, and another, and another, all while Rose looked on with fascination. "Done." You said once you're finished. You grasped Rose by the hand, gently tugging her down to be at your level. She gave you a curious look, but didn't fight you. You placed the crown of white roses atop her head, careful of the thorns, and smiled as you observed your work. "There. Absolutely lovely."_

_To this, Rose smiled, and to this day, you still aren't sure if you were talking about her or the crown._

_"Interesting." She hummed, sitting down completely in front of you. She smoothed her skirt over her thighs, and you watched how her fingers carefully traced out every fold and crease until none were left. "Can you teach me how to do that? I didn't know flowers could be used like this."_

_Her words startled you, as you were busy staring, but you quickly recovered and smiled. Flowers were some of your absolute favorite materials for crafts. Besides actual fabrics, of course. "Oh, yes. Flowers have a surprising number of uses." You told her. "But for now, why not start easy and make a crown?" You suggested._

_To this, Rose had nodded, seeming satisfied with the arrangement. "Just show me what to do." She agreed, taking two flowers from the basket into her hands._

_"Oh, uh, first," you reach to the rose still tucked behind your ear, "try using this- ow!" You abruptly drop the rose, a red bead swelling on the tip of your finger where the thorn made harsh contact with your skin._

_Rose frowned, gently taking your hand in hers. You hadn't noticed before, but now you can see where her palms are cut and scared, likely from the very roses she was named after. "Careful…" She murmured, pulling a handkerchief from a seamless pocket and using it to apply pressure to your wound. "Roses have thorns, you know." She was looking at you as she said this, and for a moment, it almost felt like she wasn't talking about the plants._

_You almost didn't ask, but… "Do you?" Rose tilted her head to the side, silently asking for clarification. "Have thorns, is what I meant." You add, turning a faint red in embarrassment._

_Again, she smiled, but this time, the expression didn't quite reach her eyes. "Don't we all?" She had asked, eyes ablaze._

_You couldn't answer that, your mouth unexplainably dry as you realized just how close she was. Not that it matter, as the moment was quickly shattered. "Rose!" A young man's voice cut though the silence._

_She jerked away from you, dusting off her skirt as she shot to her feet. "Stay down." She hissed at you, and you nodded dimly and obeyed. Rose made her way around the bushes, and you could her the resentment underlying her words as she forced cheer into her voice. "I'm over here!" She called, and you could easily picture the fake smile she put on._

_The man who had called sounded annoyed when he spoke next. The urge to peek around and see what they were doing was strong, but you resisted it. "Rose, you can't wander off like that." He said in a chastising tone. "The arrangements with your father are finished. We have to leave soon, or we'll miss the engagement party."_

_"_ _R-Right." Rose stuttered, her fake cheer suddenly gone. She sounded… remarkably miserable, actually. It made your chest tight with sympathy. And something else. S_ _omething ugly that you promptly ignored. Of course Rose was engaged. She was a noble, after all. Or the daughter of a general. She didn't actually specify, did she?_

_You sat there for a long time after they left. Until you looked down and realized that she had left her basket and discarded flower crown. You hoped she could figure out how to make them. She seemed like someone who could really use something beautiful in her life._

* * *

"And that is the first and last time I saw her." Kanaya finished gravely. You stared at her, unable to think of something to say. Not that it mattered, as she beats you to the punch. "Love is a fickle thing, Karkat." She tells you. "This girl of yours must be very special, so let her know, alright? Or else she will get away. And believe me. Being lonely is not a fun feeling. Not for long." You can only nod.

With a sigh, Kanaya climbs to her feet, offering you her hand, which you take dimly. You're much too distracted to pay attention to your surroundings. You don't notice when she leads you out, or when Equius gives you and her a suspicious look from his new position at the watchtower, or when Kanaya parts ways with you, offering a kiss on the cheek before heading off. You make your way to your apartment, not bothering to go see Dave at all.

You're stuck on what you told Kanaya. How you described that non-existent girl. She isn't real, but what has you stumped is how easy it was to describe love when you had never felt it that way before. And then it hits you like a brick. Metaphorically, of course, but the realization still had you stunned and aching.

It was easy to describe because you had felt it before. You were describing how you felt about Dave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check it out. One of those chapters that appear to be filler but means a lot later on. Haha, fuck this is gonna get complicated and stupid, I'm sorry-


	6. Not In That Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'd never ask you, 'cause deep down,   
> I'm certain I know what you'd say.   
> You'd say, “I'm sorry, believe me, I love you-   
> but not in that way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I got a laptop for Christmas, which is really damn great because now I don't have to fight with my brother and sister for computer time! I can write whenever, which should mean faster chapters. Provided that I can get past my writer's block. I'm stuck on chapter ten. Good thing that I write ahead.

You're smiling when you leave work that day. If anyone asked, you would say that it's because you got a pay raise, but that's absolutely ridiculous and not at all true. See, today you were assigned to trim the bushes on the perimeter - the plain, leafy ones that surrounded the garden. Normally, it was Kanaya's job, but she was on sick leave, so you volunteered. The good part happened when you got to the back of the garden.

The castle is surrounded on all sides by a dense pine forest, so the trees offered a little cover from the wandering eyes of the perimeter guards, who made rounds non-stop and were never later than a second. You saw your opportunity. You ducked into the trees when no one was watching, disappearing from view. You had waited anxiously for a moment, but when no shouting or pounding footsteps followed you, you relaxed and pushed in deeper.

And then you fell.

A tree root, you had assumed, and you were sent sprawling down a little stoop in the ground. You landed with a huff, the wind temporarily knocked from your lungs as you struggled to your feet. You had ended up in a shallow hole, open on three sides so you could climb out, and a curtain of leaves behind you, covering what you were sure was solid rock. Much to your surprise though, when you put your hand there to steady yourself, you went right through it. The leaves parted easily, and you had to cartwheel your arms to catch yourself. Bewildered, you pushed the covering aside, and were struck speechless. A small cave, barely tall enough for you to squeeze through if you crouched, had been carved out. It wasn't natural, if the sharp and rough edges of the walls were any indication.

You didn't have a lot of time, as a guard would be passing by where you were supposed to be soon, but you pressed inside anyway. It didn't go very far, just down enough to make you worry about air before it ended. For a moment, you thought it was a dead end. The wall in front of you was definitely solid rock. But then you realized that the floor beneath you _wasn't_. You felt it out in the low light, recognizing it as wood. Amazing. A hatch of some sort? You groped around in the dark, you fingers brushing metal, and your heart leaped into your throat. You gave it a little tug, and it didn't move. So you pulled again, harder, until you were almost strained with the effort. Then the hatch popped open, spewing what must have been centuries worth of dust and cobwebs into a space that was already lacking in air quality.

You coughed, covering your mouth in an attempt to keep the particles out, and stared down into the dark opening. You couldn't see anything at all, even though your eyes had finally adjusted enough to make out the outline of the wooden hatch. It was extremely foreboding, so you decided to leave it for the time being. Until you could come back with fire. You left it like that, making it out of the hole just in time to return to your job before any of the guards noticed. His only reaction was to remark on your dusty clothes, and jokingly suggest that you should update your wardrobe. You forced a fake smile, agreeing with a laugh. He didn't seem to notice your lack of enthusiasm and moved on.

Which leads to where you are now - making your way to your apartment with an unusually happy attitude. You were feeling pretty optimistic. Almost two years with nothing to show for it, due to your necessity to keep a low profile, and now you've found what is most likely a secret passage into the castle. You don't know where it lets out, but you're willing to bet that you can still make it useful to you.

You almost head up to your room, but then you hesitate. You can't keep leeching off of Dave for nourishment. Mostly because you don't want to rely too heavily on him. So instead of heading inside, you keep walking, heading into the market. You got paid today, and with a relatively cheap rent, you can afford to blow one pay check. So, to the market it is. For food and things of the like that are important for your survival.

* * *

The sky is dark by the time you finally head back.

Mostly because you wasted a majority of your time haggling. By which you mean arguing. But you don't care what anyone else says - you totally got a good price on all of this shit. You're not entirely sure what all you got, actually. You just loaded up on bread, fruits, vegetables, and some meat that looked good to you. You also got some tea leaves that you had never tried before, and you plan on giving them to Dave. It's definitely not a gift. You're giving them to him so that he can make tea for _you_. And if he happens to make some tea for himself, well, that's just a happy side-effect.

Your arms are heavy and starting to get tired when you finally waddle back to your apartment with all of your groceries. You plan on putting all of this stuff away and maybe visiting Dave to drop off the tea leaves, then promptly passing the fuck out in your bed. You do have work in the morning, after all. However, like most of your plans, it quickly becomes clear that _that_ isn't happening.

There's a person standing outside the apartment building, and at first, you don't pay them all that much attention. What do you care where people stand, right? But the closer you get, the more apparent it becomes that it isn't just some stranger standing there. It's Jade, and if her less-than put together appearance, messy hair, and slouched posture are any indication, she's not herself right now.

You almost don't want to interact with her, but right as you're contemplating how hard it will be to sneak in though a side window, she decides for you. "Karkat!" She laughs, and the tone in her voice tells you that you really should have gotten away while you still could. "Karkat, hey- hey. Forgot you lived here too, y'know." She slurs, waving weakly as she approaches you.

"Then what are you doing here?" You ask, ducking her attempt to sling an arm around your shoulder and heading towards the front door. It's noticeably more difficult than usual to get the door open with your arms full, but you doubt that Jade would have much more success in her intoxicated state. You manage regardless, pushing the door open and stumbling into the foyer.

Unfortunately, Jade takes this as an invitation and follows, taking a few steps inside before she remembers the door and turns to close it. "I was gonna see Dave," She explains, trailing after you and up the stairs, "but he's- he's not here righ' now, so… maybe later." She shrugs.

Inwardly, you groan. You know that you're going to be playing host for Jade until Dave gets back from wherever he is or until she passes out. Whichever comes first. With your luck, it will probably be the latter.

When you stop in front of your door, Jade surprises you by reaching around to push it open for you. You weren't expecting her to be aware enough to recognize that you need help, but whatever. You won't object. You step inside, Jade once again taking it upon herself to close the door, and let out a small grunt of relief as you set everything down on your counter. Your arms are a little sore now, but they should feel better in a few minutes. "So," you take Jade by the wrist and pull her into the living room, sitting her down without much protest, "who's watching the kids while you're out getting drunk and making house calls?" You ask conversationally. Not that you particularly _care_ about how Jade spends her free time, but curiosity is a funny and hard to ignore thing.

Jade shrugs, sinking into the couch with all the ease of someone who has no worries and nowhere to be. "John." She tells you, waving her hand dismissively. "He owed me a favor. An' it's been a slow day, so his dad didn' mind much." She yawns, sitting back up properly. You can see that she's trying hard to focus on you, but her eyes have this glassy quality that worries you a bit. What the fuck did she drink? "The kids love 'em." Jade continues like everything is fine. "I- I always thought we have the wrong jods. Jobs." She corrects herself. "I like cookin' too, but John wasn't the one who gam'pa left the orphanage to in the will." Jade sighs.

You frown a little. "I thought that it was your idea to work at the orphanage, though?" At least, that's what you had been told.

In reply, Jade shakes her head, black hair whipping her in the face. You cringe a little, knowing that that must sting, and that the shaking is only making her liquor-induced headache worse. "Nah. Told 'em that so he wouldn' think I was unhappy." She shifts her sitting position, throwing her legs over the arm of the chair and reclining. Her hair hangs down off the side, almost like a poisoned waterfall, and you have the strange desire to run your hands through it before you decided against that. Jade laughs a little. "He's the older of us. Always worrying about me, even though he doesn't hafta. I'm an adult, and I think he forgets that." She frowns. "Karkat, do you think he realizes he's treatin' me like a child?" Her gaze bores into you, searching for the answer to a question that you don't understand. It makes you uncomfortable, and you find yourself standing before you can fully process why.

"I should make dinner." You say as an excuse, smiling nervously. "You know- before the meat and vegetables rot." That won't happen for at least a few days, but the distraction works well enough. Jade nods, suddenly back to her carefree attitude from before, and waves you away without a word. Her gaze moves to the ceiling, not seeing, and it unnerves the fuck out of you.

Still, you fight off a shiver that threatens to run down your spine and make your way into the kitchen. You told her that you were going to make dinner, so that's what you're doing. Maybe you'll just cook a steak, dump some raw vegetables on the plate, and call it good. That actually sounds like it could work, so you hurry to do that.

Jade remains silent as you cook, not trying to talk or get up or even move at all, actually. If it weren't for the occasional blink or when she had to scratch and itch, you would be convinced that she had somehow died by just sitting in your living room. But that's not what happened. Something must be bothering her, something more than John acting like a nagging older brother, but you aren't sure what. Do you even want to know? Probably not, but you know that it would help her immensely to get something heavy off her chest.

"Here." You say as you walk back over to her, plates of food in hand. Hers has a pile of cauliflower to the side of your best attempt at a stake. It actually looks pretty well-done to you, but you're not sure how good it is taste-wise. Your plate has carrots on it, because you actually hate the taste of cauliflower. You're not even sure why you bought it. Jade doesn't seem to object though, nodding a quick "thank you" before she promptly shoves two in her mouth.

She eats ravenously, whereas you feel suddenly dainty as you take your time. Your carrots are chewed one by one, and you use a knife to cut your stake whereas Jade just sticks her fork in the middle and holds it up to her mouth to eat. It's actually kind of impressive. You always thought that girls would have better table manners than guys, but apparently not. It's about 50-50 from what you've been able to tell. Dave has excellent table manners, like he was taught by a Duke. It's yet another thing about him that you quickly grew attached to. Dave is endearing as Hell and it's fucking terrible.

Jade finished eating pretty soon, setting her empty plate and used silverware on the table. "The meat was a little undercooked in the middle." She remarks casually, closing her eyes and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Thanks for the feedback." You mutter sarcastically. She doesn't really notice your tone. Obviously. You're even more disheartened when you finally get to the center of your cut and see that she's right. Just a little too pink. Goddamn it. You frown and set your plate down next to hers. You're not hungry anymore.

At the sound of your plate clacking against the table, Jade opens one eye, peering at you. "Finished?" She asks, and you nod. Satisfied, she swings back up into a proper sitting position. You think for a moment that she's going to kiss you or punch you or otherwise do something dramatic to confuse you, but she just sits there. Then Jade asks, "Do you have any mead?"

You take a moment to process the question, then you frown deeply. "I- no." The last thing you need to do is hinder both your mission and your life further by having alcohol. You like your sleep schedule. You don't want to go around fucking with it. "And if I did, you wouldn't be getting any." You add, fixing her with a stern glare.

Jade just sighs, as if your entire existence is an exasperation and she just can't believe that she has to bother with _thi_ s. "Why not?" She sounds startlingly sober as she asks, but her physical demeanor doesn't change any.

You can't believe that you have to deal with her like this. But maybe that's how she feels about you. She and you aren't exactly _close_ , after all. Not as close as she is with Dave. You're so tempted to bang on his door and demand that he take her off your hands, but no. No, you can't burden him like that. You don't even know if Dave is home. So it's just easier to keep Jade confined to your apartment and away from mead. She'll regret this in the morning- when the hangover keeps her in bed far longer than she should be.

"You can't have mead, but I'll give you the choice of water or tea." You offer instead. That's how it works with children. Distract them and work out a compromise by giving them a different option. Children like to make choices, so the second offer will make them feel in control and therefore quiet them down. Usually. Hopefully. Just so long as drunk people operate the same as children.

She pouts, but begrudgingly sighs. "Water." Jade decides on, and you swallow a sigh of relief. Thank God that worked. Water is a good choice. She's probably dehydrated.

You take the plates with you when you get up, leaving them on the counter next to the food you still have to put away. You'll get to it. Probably. You grab a glass and fill it with water, heading back to Jade and handing it to her. She frowns at it for a moment, as if unsure what to do now that you've given her what she requested, but then she lifts it to her lips and slowly drinks. She starts downing it faster once she picks up the taste for it, and you watch with equal parts fascination and horror as she completely skips swallowing altogether and the entire contents of the glass go down her throat. Jade truly is something special.

"So…" You begin awkwardly, not making eye-contact. Jade lowers the empty glass long after she finished the water, giving you her attention. "What, uh- _why_ exactly were you drinking?" You ask curiously. You should probably keep the topic away from mead lest she decide again that she wants more, but you can't help it. If you're going to have to play host, you would like to know why.

Jade shrugs, looking down to watch her feet as she kicks her legs back and forth. She's pretty tall, so that doesn't work very well, her feet dragging along the wooden floor. If she notices this though, she just evidently doesn't care, because she doesn't stop. "'M just feelin' upset." She mutters. You guess that she doesn't want to talk about it. Too bad you're not giving her the option.

"Is today an anniversary?" You ask on a hunch. Jade looks up at you, looking mildly surprised by your guess. "Or, like, a special date that you don't want to remember?"

She hesitates, thinking about it, then shakes her head slowly. "Nope." Jade sighs. "Next week 'M pretty sure is the day me an' John met Dave," she perks up for a moment, then saddens once more, "...but I don' think he likes me much anymore…" She trails off, and you have a moment of realization.

Dave didn't seem too keen on being near her for too long when you first met him. You don't know why, but you do know that it's not because he doesn't like Jade. "No, I'm sure that's not it." You shake your head. "Dave likes you a lot! He just gets… busy." The excuse is weak. Even Jade, in her less than intelligent state, can recognize that.

"Karkat." She sighs. "He doesn' like me. He likes John. If he likes me so much, then why does he- why won' he ever spend time with me?" Jade asks, her eyes wide and lost. "He always has ta' be doin' somethin' when 'M around. He has time for John. And you." For a moment, something akin to jealousy flashes in her eyes, but then it's gone. Maybe it was never really there and you're just seeing things. "But never me." Jade finishes. "So, do you know? What I did to make him not like me? 'Cause I can fix it. Whatever it is. Just- tell me?" She gives you a pleading look.

You just shake your head. "Jade, I'm- I'm sorry." And you really are. "Dave hasn't said anything about it. I thought you guys were doing great." You frown. Jade looks down, disappointed, and you have to bite your tongue.

_Don't bring romance into this don't bring romance into this don't bring romance into this_ , you chant the phrase over and over, close your eyes, and take a deep breath. And then you open your mouth. "I… think he knows that you love him." You say, a sinking feeling in your chest. Why did you have to bring romance into this? You had literally one fucking job.

Jade actually looks scared when you meet her eyes again. "He- He does?" She whispers. Jesus, you are surrounded by idiots. It's official. There's this thing called "facial expressions" that you really need to teach them to control. Dave can do a pretty good job of that when he tries, but seriously. It's sad how oblivious all of these people are. Not even people, actually. You think that "children" is a lot more accurate of a word to describe the sorry pieces of shits you call your friends.

But you don't voice any of that. Instead, you just nod your head in response to Jade's question. "He does." You confirm. "And I think it makes him uncomfortable." You say this hesitantly, and with good reason. Jade takes a moment to process what exactly that entails, and when she does, she slumps into the couch.

"Oh." She says, quiet. You almost say something, but seeing as how well that went over the last time you did that, you find the strength to keep your mouth shut. Besides, Jade looks like she's considering something, and you don't want to interrupt. After a moment of dead, eerie silence, she turns her head to look at you. "Karkat. Can you talk to Dave for me?" Jade asks.

You're tempted to refuse her request outright, but then you notice her hesitance. The way she's using those buck teeth to go to town on her lower lip. How tight her hair is wrapped around her finger as she fiddles with it. She's nervous. And scared. And forcing herself to swallow more than a little bit of pride to even just ask. You know what you're going to say. Because you're a sucker for pity and all of your friends are pity bait if you've ever seen it. They stink of it.

"...Alright." You sigh, running a hand through your hair. "I'll talk to him about his… behavior. And…" Jade is still looking at you, expectantly, so you force yourself to continue, "...I'll see about getting him to ask you on a date. Dispel some of this... tension." You spit out the word "date" like it's poison, but if Jade notices, she doesn't comment on it. You doubt she cares about your feelings on the matter. This isn't about you. Some things can be, sure, but not this. This is about your friends and their broken and splittered love lifes, which you are apparently going to have to fix.

At the very least, Jade seems to be happy with this deal of yours. "Aw, thanks, Karkat!" She grins, standing on wobbling legs and practically dropping her dead weight on you as she attempts to strangle you. That is, hug you. But it certainly doesn't _feel_ like a hug. You can't actually breathe right now, and that's a little worrying. Soon enough though, Jade decides that she's done being "affectionate" and she pulls back. "I really 'preciate it." She tells you, her smile gentle and honest. Like the hug should have been.

Still, despite the churning in your stomach caused by emotions you don't want to acknowledge, you manage a smile back. "It's no problem." You say. That's a lie. "I'm happy to help with this." Another lie. "I'm sure this whole thing with Dave is just a big misunderstanding." Damn, you're really good at lying. You're pretty sure that Dave's disinterest in pursuing a relationship with Jade could not be more clear unless he wrote it on a sign and held it above his head when he stood beneath her window and shouted, "I'm not into you!" Of course, Jade doesn't need to hear any of that. Yet. Who knows, maybe he is into Jade and is just scared of pursuing a relationship because he might fuck it up.

Or he's completely, absolutely and forever head-over-heels for John and you're about to make both of your friends incredibly unhappy. You guess that there's only one way to find out.

Somehow, while the idea of Dave being in a happy relationship is appealing, you don't like to think about him with Jade _or_ John. It's that same emotion from earlier, twisting your insides into knots. A small bit of hatred flares up inside of you, and you quickly stomp it out. You refuse to address this new feeling. What does it matter? Your feelings on this whole thing don't factor in. You're pretty sure that girls have a saying for this that you think applies well here.

Always the bridesmaid. Never the bride. That sounds perfectly fine to you. No matter what that feeling in your chest says otherwise.

* * *

The next morning, when you wake up, Jade is gone. You had given her another glass of water and set her up in your bed, your satchel safely tucked under the couch, where you were to take up temporary residence for the night. She wasn't in your bed when you sleepily remembered to check, nor anywhere else, so you guess that she left. You wonder if she remembers anything from last night. Maybe you won't have to talk to Dave about dating her. It certainly wouldn't be a pleasant conversation for either of you. For two entirely different reasons.

You know what you're going to do even before your hand wraps around your lockpicks, placed deep in your satchel. You haven't used them since you settled down in this apartment, but they feel familiar and sure in your grip. Like old friends. You missed them- their cold weight. In your mess of emotions, they help make you feel steady.

You don't bother with a bath today. You get dressed, and instead of descending the stairs, you climb them, ending up unsurprisingly in front of Dave's door. On impulse, you knock. You count to one, then two, and after five seconds of no sound or indication that Dave heard you at all, you decide to let yourself in.

It's a rudimentary lock. Not especially difficult, as it pops open with ten seconds of you fiddling with it and prodding at it. You take pride in your skills. If there was one thing being an orphan taught you, it was how to take care of yourself. And how to dream. You did plenty of that as a kid. Technically, the orphanage fed you and clothed you and gave you a decent enough bed, but other than that? Well, you had to make due with what you had. And what you had was two make-shift lock picks and nothing but time. You put two and two together. To achieve those outlandishly hopeful dreams of yours, you would need money. And why bother earning it legally when the rush of stealing was so much more wickedly satisfying? Petty thefts, mostly. Nothing that would get you in serious trouble. But the skill is still something you have today, and it comes in handy now.

You hold your breath as Dave's door eases open, but no sound comes. No one is in the hall to see you break in, and no one is in the apartment to react to said break in. You take a tentative step forward, then another one, more sure of yourself. You close the door behind you on habit. You wonder where Dave could be so early in the morning, as a quick scan of the bedroom reveals that it's empty, the bed precisely and immaculately made, as if it had never been used. It's a little impressive. The rest of the apartment is like that, too, and you find yourself wondering why you're feet carried you here. Usually, your instincts know what to do, but you've been here before. It's plain- baren. There's nothing to find, and if there was, you would have found it in almost two years of visiting. Right?

You find yourself back in his bedroom. You instinctively know that you have only a few more minutes to waste before you'll end up being late for work, but you don't really care. You run a hand over his stiff covers absentmindedly, and sit on the bed. Why? That's… a very good question, actually. Dave's pillow is on your hands before you can stop yourself (even if you wanted to) and you frown at it, fluffing it a few times just to have something to do. With a sigh, you hug it to your chest, burying your face in it. It's very comforting, you find. As creepy as it is, the pillow smells like Dave, and after spending so much time around him, you had inadvertently become attached to his scent. It calms you. Soothes you. Makes you feel like everything is going to be alright. For a fleeting moment, you wish he was here. That he would hold you and shush you and tell you that everything is going to be fine, even though you know he's lying. And you wish that you would let him do something like that. The backs of your eyes sting. Your hands shake. If you close your eyes and try hard enough, you can imagine his arm draped around your shoulder comfortingly, heavy and so unbelievably _real_.

You hate it.

Standing up, you put the pillow back where you found it, and smooth out the creases in the sheets from where you sat. Then you leave. You lock the door behind you, and refuse to look back as you make your way down the hallway. You want to go back - you _really_ do - but what would be the point? Dave isn't there. And even if he was, what would you do? Nothing. That's what you would do. You would let him ease you into quiet submission with his tea and pointless conversational topics. You know you would because you let him do it everyday.

You're attached. That much is obvious. Which is why you make a very important decision. The fact that this decision is so hard to accept is what pushes you to accept it anyway. You're going to tell Dave to ask Jade out. Force him, if you have to, which you doubt. If he doesn't like it, then fine, great, you'll drop it. But you want him to give her a chance. She clearly cares about him a lot, and you don't want to see their friendship go up in flames because of this. And if he does like it…

Then you'll be happy for him. Simple. Easy. No matter how tight your throat gets when you think about it, and how your stomach twists in knots to voice its disagreement with your plan. You don't care. You're going to make Dave happy. Even if it destroys you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real quick, guys. Not every character mentioned is actually, well, a character. Some people, like Rose's "husband" and Karkat's old orphanage owner are just characters stuck in there to work with the plot. OCs, I guess. Unless you get a name, you can pretty much file them away under "unimportant," alright?
> 
> And, for the record, writing a lovesick Jade is very difficult. This isn't her whole character, by the way. The only reason she's pouting at all is because she's drunk. She's a very strong character, and definitely much more than a love rival, which should become clearer as the story progresses.
> 
> Up next, you get the first intermission!


	7. Act 1 Intermission 1: What I've Become

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amazing disgrace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me.  
> Better lost if this is found, best blinded never to see.  
> The race to save face, nothing now is what we meant it to be.  
> Pretending I'm still here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm going to be honest here. I- really don't feel great about this. I'm losing confidence in the quality of this story. The plot just- I don't think anyone will like it. I'm finishing Act 1 for sure, but if this mood persists, then I'll either abandon the work or put it up for adoption so that someone better can finish it. We'll see how it goes. Or if anyone is actually interested.
> 
> Side note, I did have to switch proofreaders, and my new one isn't really caught up with the story yet. I do my best, and once they go through and fix some of my mistakes, I probably go back and update the chapter with those changes. Eventually.

You're a little surprised by how easy it is to get out of the engagement.

After years of living with your father's rigid schedules (designed just so that he knows where you are every second of every day) and non-stop security measures, you had just assumed that all nobles lived that way.

This is not at all true.

Your name is Rose Lalonde, and all you had to do to avoid an unhappy and rather bothersome arranged marriage was open your window and climb down the side of the building. Your father never allowed vines or trees grow near any window for this exact reason, as even in your inconvenient hoop skirt, you managed to scale down five stories. Your ex-betrothed has a nice house, if not a little smaller than what you're used to.

The first thing you do when you hit the ground is remove the awkwardness of your skirt. The hoop and metal frameworks come first, the pretty silk tearing with the force you use. You don't really care. The layers come next, awkwardly stripped off until you're left wearing just a petticoat underneath it for warmth and the silk body of the dress. The skirt is in shambles, and the whole thing hangs off of you oddly without the layers to tighten it into remaining still. But it's loose, and a lot easier to move in than before, which is what you had been going for. You push your skirt up, reaching up the back of it to loosen your corset a little. You don't bother trying to remove it just yet. It's too much of a hassle.

You're glad that you opted to swipe a pair of servant shoes before you left. They're not as stylish as your heels, but you'll gladly trade style for comfort any day. You're going to be doing a lot of walking, anyway. You have somewhere to be. Someday, you'll thank your almost-husband for transporting you here. It was a lot easier than walking 100 miles. It was quite nice of him.

There are no walls around his house, either. No guards. No watchtowers. It's a welcome change, and it makes things a lot easier. You have only one thing with you aside from the clothes on your back. It's a white sphere upon first glance. Perfectly round and mesmerizing to gaze upon. Normal people wouldn't understand why they were drawn to it. But, then again, you aren't normal, are you? And you wouldn't want to be.

As much as you dislike your mother at times, you do have to credit her with your vision twofold. It lets you gaze upon the sphere and receive answers. Whereas the answer she received drove her insane though, you have a much more calm and rationalized approach to the situation. You use it's answers to play the game of fate, and oh God is there a lot of moves in the making. This game has spanned generations, and you're finally going to end it. Before it gets even more out of hand.

It takes a lot of careful questions to get any solid information from the sphere, as it only gives yes or no replies. But you've overheard enough of your dad's military meetings to know what questions to ask. It's 100% accurate, and you're trusting it enough to throw away your whole life on its divinations.

Not that your life was all that great, but still. It was your life. You'll miss the gardener girl, though. You wish that you could have gotten to learn how to make flower crowns before leaving. The way her fingers knotted the fragile stems together so effortlessly- you never knew that something so simple could be so beautiful.

But there will be time for idle thoughts like that later. You have more important things to be doing now.

The forest around the noble's house is dense, low-hanging branches scratching at your arms when you brush them aside. You don't mind so much. It would have gotten stuck in your hair, had it still been long and down to your waist. But your almost-mother-in-law had been kind enough to leave you with a pair of scissors for smoothing out your "choppy bangs" as she put it. You used them to hack off the hair reaching below your neck, leaving the white-blonde strands in piles on the floor. That and the open patio door should tell them that you've left of your own free will. Not that it will stop them from blaming any nearby gangs for your "kidnapping". Oh, well. That's not your problem.

You don't know exactly where you're going (the orb, with all of its omnipotence, is not very specific), but you do know that you'll know it when you see it. You just need to keep walking.

Walking and walking and walking and… yeah. This is boring. You frown at the orb in your hand. You know that something important is waiting for you out here, and you know that it has something to do with this "silent war" your father is so worried about, but you don't know what. "Is there a person I need to meet?" you had asked. The orb hadn't answered, radiating smugness. Your key to omnipotence is a sarcastic piece of shit not unlike yourself, and as inconvenient as it is sometimes, you know that the orb wouldn't send you to your death, so you begrudgingly trust it. You have a war to stop, don't you? You bet that wars are far more interesting than staring at the drab, dull stone walls of your room for hours on end.

After what feels like hours but is probably more like fifteen minutes, you come upon a clearing. You don't walk directly into it - that would be stupid - and instead crouch in the underbrush to survey your surroundings undetected. You want to ask the orb if this is it, but you don't need to rely on it for every little impasse you come to. Besides. Chances are high that it's still in one of its moods and won't answer regardless.

You crouch there for a moment, the world around you still as you hold your breath, and then the trees across from you part and a woman steps out. You don't recognize her, probably because it's nearly midnight and she's nothing but a silhouette to you. She doesn't seem to realize that you're standing there.

She comes to the center of the clearing, where a small tombstone is embedded sloppily in the earth. The hand gripping the orb twitches as you get the urge to ask about it, but you resist. You watch the woman withdraw flowers from her huge sleeves, laying them around the grave. She sits for a moment - talking? - then to your surprise, reaches around and hugs the stone tight. With the way she's slouched over it, as well as the way her form shakes, it's safe to assume that she's crying. You don't want to ruin the moment, but you know instinctively that this is the best time to approach.

You're quiet and careful, not making a sound until you're standing near her. Just five feet away, she crouches, still weeping over the tombstone. The orb didn't tell you what to do once you got here, just that this meeting is extremely important. But that's okay. You think you understand.

"Were they important to you?" You ask quietly. It's a stupid question with an obvious answer, but it works as a conversation starter.

She jerks in surprise, looking up at you with wide, fearful eyes. The fear quickly turns to determination as her hand goes to the knife strapped to her waist, and that determination fades to curiosity when she notices that you're unarmed.

You slowly sink to your knees, wordless as you gesture to the tombstone. You can see her thinking. Considering you. Evidently, she's too tired to bother with killing you or running, because she just sighs and looks at the grave again.

"He." She says softly, closing her eyes as she answers your question. "It's a he. And, yes. He was- _is_ very important to me."

In response, you just nod. "Does he have a name?" You ask. It would be hard to read in the low light, even if the tombstone wasn't completely bare. It's just a slab of rock. No one who hadn't been told would know who was buried here.

The woman laughs a little, shaking her head. Her hair is brown and drab, shaking around her in a matted mess with the movement. When was the last time she combed it? "Not one you'll be told." She smiles, but it's clearly forced. "He has a code name now. So that it's a little bit harder for them to find us again." There's a pause. She runs a hand over the top of the grave, taking a shaky breath. "He's my husband." It's hard for her to say that word. 'Husband'. He's been gone for years- decades, even. You can tell. "We call him the Sufferer."

The name feels familiar. But where you might have heard it, you aren't sure. "And what's your code name, then, if I'm allowed to know?" You ask. You don't think that you're prying just yet, but you're getting close.

"I'm the Disciple." She tells you, her gaze never leaving the grave. "I suppose you want to know where the names came from?" She doesn't sound upset - just amused. You take it as a good sign.

You nod. "If it isn't too much of a hassle for you."

"He's the Sufferer because of the way he was killed. Murdered." Disciple corrects herself. "Maybe I'll tell you how one day." You sit up a little straighter at that. "One day" is good. It means that she might let you stick around. "And I'm Disciple because he was my teacher and his word was the truth and I recorded all of it. That's probably a silly way to think of one's husband- as being right all the time- but he really was." She smiles fondly. "He always had something kind to say about everyone. Always had time to listen, no matter how busy. Wise beyond his years. But…" her smile falls, "I guess you just had to be there."

You reach up just then, causing her to turn a curious eye to your movements, but you're just reaching for your necklace. You unclasp it, letting it hang in front of you. Her breath catches in her throat. She recognizes the symbol. How could she not? It's his. "I think I know more about it than you think." You say quietly.

Disciple's eyes narrow, and she scrutinizes you with renewed wariness. "And who, exactly, are you?" Her question sounds like she's actually amazed you know his symbol. "His legacy was wiped from the history books. No one should know about this."

"The Silent War?" You ask, and she nods. "Let's just say that I have… connections." You put the necklace back around your neck. "Or, well, I did. But those bridges have been burned. The point is, I know about you. I know what she did." Both of you spare a glance at the tombstone. "And I want to help you turn this war around and make his memory a good one." You say surely.

She hesitates. Certainly, nothing about you is trustful. And yet… you can see her considering it. She knows that you can help. And you know that she's desperate. "Alright." Disciple sighs, caving to your request. "We haven't had new recruits in ages. Come with me. I'll get you better clothes and some food and…" she looks you up and down once more, "see what you can do."

You smile, hiding the white orb behind your back. "If that's what you think is best." You say innocently. You're no fool. You'll be running her operation within the week. Maybe this rebellion of hers can actually work.

There's really only one way to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I know this is confusing, but trust me. It will all make sense in later chapters. Like most of this story. Just bare with me (by which I mean Act 2- sorry you have to wait so long for answers). I like complicated plots. You made a mistake by reading this story.
> 
> But, yeah, you guys don't need to worry about Rose. She can take care of herself. And you guys thought she was going to be a minor character.
> 
> On an unrelated note, I do have a Tumblr. It's the same as my username, but in lowercase. karalicious769 on Tumblr. You can follow me if you have nothing better to do. It's pretty lame, but, like, sometimes I'm funny? I have links to my other accounts on various websites there, in case you wanted to stalk me for whatever reason. I reblog a lot of DaveKat stuff, and sometimes maybe post things about my writing, so you can go there if you want.
> 
> And I don't know if you guys know this, but I have a YouTube channel, too. So I keep pretty busy, considering that a 15 second good edit takes about three hours. I have a handful of open Homestuck MEPs, so if that's something you're into, just let me know and I'll hook you up. I'd love to finally finish some of them.
> 
> Shameless self-promotion over. Carry on.


	8. Here Comes A Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And oh, you're losing sight. You're losing touch.  
> All these little things seem to matter so much.  
> That they confuse you.  
> That I might lose you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might please you to know that I've settled on a schedule for this story. Two updates a month, on the second and fourth Wednesday of every month. Probably around three in the afternoon, central time if not earlier (after I get out of school and get home). At least for Act 1.
> 
> Updates will probably come faster depending on how productive I am. That's a problem of motivation, actually. I have such a hard time finding enough motivation to just sit down and write and make a sizable dent in the progress of the plot. It's why I appreciate reviews so much. They help probably more than you guys will ever know.

Your plan is actually going to have to wait.

You, Karkat Vantas, are apparently incapable of swallowing your feelings and getting two of your friends to go out one stupid date. It's infuriating to no end, but there isn't much you can do about it. You've been trying for _months_ to talk to Dave about taking Jade on a date, but every time you think you're finally going to say something about it, your brain changes the subject at the last second. You're so close to just pitching yourself out of Dave's apartment window to get it over with already. Dead people don't have to stress about stupid shit like this, right? Well, probably not, at least. You hope not.

However, death is not a thing you can do. You have a job to complete. Besides, it's winter right now. Pitching yourself out the window would be really cold. You hate the cold. Plus, burying your body with the ground frozen like it is now would be really difficult. You're such a considerate guy. Most people don't realize that.

Speaking of the cold, Christmas is coming up. You didn't celebrate it last year, mostly because you couldn't be bothered to leave your apartment for longer than five minutes. You _really_ hate the cold. Dave had to bring you food for you to survive. It wasn't fun. But this year, you have a reason to bother with the holidays.

You don't have work (the queen's garden doesn't bloom in the winter, so there's nothing to tend to, thus making your job pointless until spring), so you get this huge Christmas bonus that helps you get through the winter technically unemployed. This year, you thought that you might as well put it to good use.

And totally spend it all on Dave.

You… have no excuse for this. Maybe you can bribe him to ask Jade out or something. Probably not though, since you still can't get your mouth to form the _fucking_ words. But more on that later. Right now, you have something to do. You're going to drag Dave out to the market and figure out what he wants, and come back later and buy it. You're going to buy it so hard. You are a great friend.

Just a friend.

"Dave?" You call, knocking on his door. You're ready for the winter. You have your old cloak on as a first layer, then a heavier jacket that you bought when the leaves started to fall. Two layers of pants, a sweater, and snow boots that are so heavy they feel more like bricks, and you're ready to go. Often, you'll add a scarf or a hat, but today you had decided not to bother. "Dave, you home?" Sometimes he is, sometimes he isn't. What can you say? He's a popular guy.

You hear the sound of something thumping, and hurried footsteps before Dave pulls the door open. "Karkat!" He smiles when he sees you. You try not to let your heart get too excited. It's pounding like crazy. You wonder why. "Hey." Dave pauses as he finally takes notice of your outfit. "What's with the get up?"

You roll your eyes, gesturing wildly at the window behind him, the snow clear to see as it blankets the ground. "We're going shopping today." You say. It's not a suggestion. "And I know you might find this hard to believe, but I'd prefer to _not_ freeze my ass off, thank you very much." You tell him.

He takes a moment to process what you're saying, and his smile slips into a frown. You almost let it affect you. "Karkat, I'm sorry." Dave sighs. "I can't today."

Okay, that actually does affect you. You frown in confusion. "Why not?" You hope that he at least has a decent reason. If this is a joke, you will punch him in the face. Softly. Because you don't want to hurt him but also want him to know that you're really upset. Even if you aren't. Because him joking with you would make Dave laugh, and his laugh is really cute, and-

Maybe you should shut the fuck up for now and just listen to what he has to say.

Dave runs a hand through his hair, pushing his shades up to rub at his eyes. You don't see their color (you never have) but the bags under his eyes worry you. He should be getting more sleep. "Okay, so, you kinda became a hermit last year, so I forgive you for not knowing, but…" He trails of, fixing his shades back into position, "this whole week is the week when a bunch of nobles come to town to appeal to the queen and king and buy a lot of shit from the market while they're here." Dave explains with a grimace. "They're all self-entitled pricks. I stay inside this time of year, to avoid them. If you want to go, you can, but if you really need me there for whatever reason, you'll have to wait until next week. When they're gone." Dave sounds especially tense to you, so you decide not to push it. He has his reasons. Maybe a bad interaction with one of them? Someday, you might ask him.

"Alright." You relent with a small sigh. "I can go alone. It's not a lot that I was looking to buy. I just didn't want to go out in this Hellish weather all alone." You say, that half-hoping that Dave will feel guilty and agree to come anyway, but he just nods.

"If you're sure." Dave agrees. "I'll see you later." He steps forward, wrapping you in a brief hug. Your heart leaps up into your throat, and you tense. By the time you come back down to Earth, Dave has let you go and he's shutting his apartment door behind him.

Disappointment pools in your chest and you bite your bottom lip, but you aren't all that surprised. You had been the one to suggest going alone. You could have gone inside with him and just had tea or something. You're starting to get sick of tea, but you're not sick of Dave yet, so you tolerate it. Even if sometimes you find yourself wishing that Dave has a potted plant so that you have something to discretely pour it into. Actually, why don't you give him one? Christmas is the holiday of giving or something else stupid and mushy, right? A potted plant. The perfect gift. How are you so good at this shit?

You feel a little more light-hearted after that. Which is a feeling that immediately withers when you actually step out into the cold. God, why would you ever think this was a good idea? Well, it's too late now. You're already outside, so you might as well suffer.

You head off, absentmindedly fiddling with your bag of coins as you do. It's really full, almost to the point of overspilling. You're glad that you have the opportunity to lighten your load a little. As much as you like having money, you don't like appearing as a target to those who would prefer to steal than earn money. Huh. That… kind of makes you a hypocrite, doesn't it? Oh, well. There are worse things to be.

The snow and gravel make that crunching sound that you hate with every step. It's annoying beyond description, but you have to suck it up. Besides levitation, which is impossible, you can think of no other way to travel that won't make that noise. You curse the decision to live so far away from the market. You would curse Dave, since he was the one who suggested it, but you can't. It was you who asked for the room, not Dave. You can't be mad at him.

Unsurprisingly, the streets are rather empty. And it has nothing to do with the cold. The closer you get to the market, the more clear it is that Dave was telling the truth about the nobles. Impressive-looking carriages line the streets, all of them with at least one person watching them. They don't take your eyes off of you as you pass, be it the carriage driver, or someone waiting inside. It's unnerving as Hell, and you find your steps quickening. But that is nothing compared to the market itself.

Your boss is a fairly wealthy woman, so you've seen nice decor and outfits and things of the like. Even so, that does nothing to prepare you for the sheer _amount_ of wealth being shown off in the market center.

It feels like everyone is dressed to impress, but to impress who, you aren't sure, because the whole market is empty aside from the nobles and the clearly uncomfortable store owners. Layers of silk and cotton and wool meet you at every turn, as well as the suspicious stares, from men and women alike. You ignore them. If the flashing gold and jeweled accessories they're obsessed with have somehow tricked them into believing that they're important, then do you have some news to share. Your destination is clear cut, as all thoughts of shopping go out the window. One of the nobles here could have valuable information. Infiltration means understanding the enemy, who happens to be the king. You know that he's paranoid, but you don't know exactly what you're dealing with. You should probably figure that out.

You don't necessarily consider John a close friend, but you head over to him regardless. He's worked here for a few years and more. He should be able to answer a few simple questions. Otherwise you'll need to reconsider which of Dave's friends you choose to interact with.

"John!" You call, waving a little as you step up to him. Luckily, his stand is free of costumers. You already know that nobles don't take well to being interrupted.

He smiles when you approach, and- no, you still can't see what it is about him that is so appealing to Dave. It's a nice enough smile, you guess. And the buckteeth are a little cute? But it doesn't do anything for you. "Hey, Karkat." He greets, relief in his voice as he leans forward against his stand to talk to you. "What brings you to the market on this _jolly_ day?"

You snort, rolling your eyes at the sarcasm. "I was going to shop, but apparently _someone_ beat me to it." You remark with disdain, resisting the urge to look around the market. "A lot of someones."

"A lot of very _annoying_ someones." John adds, grinning. Out of all the store owners with stands set up, he looks to be the least upset. His smiles are a little less forced, and his enthusiasm just a bit more believable. "They come every year." He sighs. "Maybe they think that the king and queen would only let the _finest_ quality products in _their_ market." He snickers.

Despite yourself, you smile. Like him or not, John has this… air about him that makes you feel like everything is going to be okay and it convinces you to relax. It's odd, and you don't trust it, but it's still nice. "I don't think the king and queen would care if you literally sold someone's ass." You agree. "Just so long as you don't sell it to _them_." John hums in recognition, and you take the opportunity to switch conversation topics. "So," You gesture to the nobles flittering about the market, "are none of them even the least bit nice?" You ask, one eyebrow raised.

John shrugs. "Most of them." He tells you. "Some are nicer than others like with most groups of people, but- oh!" He shoots up into a proper standing position as something occurs to him. "Feferi is _really_ sweet." John snaps his fingers triumphantly, like you should be impressed, but all you do is raise an eyebrow. He turns red, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Your expression doesn't change, and he hurries to continue. "She's that noble girl. Over there." And he points to girl with more hair than you've ever seen in your life.

You're not even kidding. It's the first noteworthy thing about her, cascading down her back and over her shoulders in smooth, black ribbons. She clearly puts a lot of time into it, because it's smooth-looking and you bet that it's so soft that it would slip right though your fingers if you tried to grab it. You won't, though. Something tells you that you haven't earned the honor to do so.

Then you realize what she's wearing. Layers so thick that you can't imagine how she walks, just like the other noble ladies, but it's all in such an ungodly shade of pink that you wonder if she went to the fabric store and, when prompted for a color, just told them, "the most eye-sore color you can come up with" and they gave her that. You really hate fuchsia.

"Feferi, huh?" You muse to yourself. That name is familiar to you. But, ah well. You're sure that you heard it somewhere while undercover on a job. It's odd, though. You're usually so good with remembering names and faces.

John nods a little, assuming that you're prompting him to continue the conversation. "Yeah. She's really nice - doesn't even bring servants with her to carry all of her things. Which is probably not that smart since she buys something from everyone." He chuckles a little. "She doesn't even need the stuff- she just likes giving people business. I heard that she actually gives it all to the homeless and poor when she gets back to her town." Your eyes widen a little when you hear that.

"Really?" You blink. God, and you thought Dave was the selfless one. Feferi sounds like she's on a whole other level entirely.

Again, John nods, looking smug. "Yeah. Well, at least, that's the rumor. I'd talk to her more, but the guy she always has with her is completely unbearable." He grimaces.

You see what he's talking about. There's a guy standing next to Feferi, looking very unhappy with all of the things she's bought in his arms. It's funny to you that she's making her fiancé (you think?) carry it all instead of her servants. He certainly doesn't look very happy with the decision, though.

"His name is Eridan." John says, waving dismissively. "He's trying to court her, I think, but she's not interested." He smiles a little. "It's actually kind of funny - to see her shut him down. He does have some pretty impressive patience, though. Even when I was seven and just starting to work and they were coming with their parents, he's wanted to marry her." John sighs. "I actually sometimes feel sorry for him. And then I remember that he's a complete dick."

You nod a little bit, watching them browse the jewelry stand. "Noted." You say. "Well. Wish me luck."

John blinks in surprise, staring up at you like you just lost your mind. The joke's on him. You lost it years ago. "Woah, what? You're actually going to go talk to her? Why?" He asks, curiosity and worry fighting for control of his expression.

You shrug. "Just to see something." You tell him vaguely. There's no rule that says that you need to explain yourself to John of all people. You block out his protests and questions, stalking over to the jewelry stand like you're exactly where you're supposed to be. If you pretend to be confident - act like you are, talk like you are, walk like you are - then people will think you're confident. It's always worked before. No reason that it can't work now.

The guy she drags with her - Eridan, or something stupid like that - narrows his eyes suspiciously at you as you approach. You ignore him. You have your sights set on the ring section, and you skim through the selections with feigned interest. None of them are very eye-catching to you. There's a simple, silver band that you think is kind of nice. It's not like any of the other, heavily decorated ones. You think that Dave would like it, but then you remember that these are engagement rings and move on to the bracelets instead. That's a safer place to be looking.

Feferi, for the most part, appears to be struggling. She's frowning at the two necklaces in her hands, both of them gold, but one decorated with sapphires and the other with rubies. You pretend not to be looking, even as your heart pounds in your ribcage. Fuck. Now is your moment. The universe has given you a chance.

You clear your throat, catching her attention. Her hair bounces and writhes around her face as she tilts her head up to look at you, and for a moment, you compare it to a living, breathing mass. But then the moment passes and that ridiculous notion is shoved to the side. "Who are you buying for?" You ask with a hopefully convincing smile.

Whatever her answer is, Feferi doesn't get a chance to reply before her suitor is stepping in front of her. "Wwhat makes you think that you're wworthy of speakin' to her, peasant?" He snarls, and you're so caught off guard by his stupid accent that you forget to be offended at all.

You go to reply, but Feferi beats you to it. "Eridan!" She snaps, shoving him out of the way. It's not a very good attempt - she couldn't have moved him at all if Eridan hadn't let her. "Don't be so rude! He's just making pleasant conversation!"

You almost laugh at the look on Eridan's face - like a kicked puppy. _Almost_ laugh. "But-" He tries to protest.

"No buts!" Feferi says firmly, stomping her foot for emphasis. You wonder if John was lying when he told you that Eridan is courting her. They behave more like a parent and their spoiled child. It's more entertaining than it should be. "Be nice! You're the reason that the other commoners are too scared to talk to me, so quit it for a day, alright?" She's calmed down some, but you can see the set scowl on her face.

Eridan is quiet for a moment, thinking over his options, before he begrudgingly nods. "Alrigh', Fef." He murmurs, burying his face in his sweater and looking at the ground. And you have to admit it. You're impressed.

Satisfied, Feferi turns back to you, smiling like nothing happened at all. "Sorry about that." She apologizes, twisting a strand of hair around her finger as she talks. Is she nervous? It looks that way. You can't seriously be the first commoner she's held a conversation with. Right? "What were you saying?"

It takes a moment for you to process the question and remember the answer. "Uh… who are you buying for?" You ask, one eyebrow raised. Maybe this whole "conversation" thing wasn't such a good idea. There are easier ways to learn about the king and queen, right? You can't think of any off of the top of your head, but there must be _some_ alternative to this fucking mess.

Feferi actually looks taken aback by your question, staring down at the two pieces in her hand. "I hadn't thought about it." She admits. "But- my mom. She would like this one." Feferi holds up the one with rubies, setting the other down.

The lady running the stall smiles, looking relieved that Feferi is going to be leaving. "That will be 425 gold pieces, sweetie." She says, and you _know_ that she's jacking the price up, but Feferi pays it happily and with a smile regardless.

Eridan doesn't seem quite as happy with the transaction, but he stays quiet as told, taking the necklace when Feferi hands it to him without complaint. He merely adds it to the rest of her purchases, looking extremely displeased. It's kind of admirable. He knows by now that he isn't getting anything out of it, but he does it anyway. Hope is a very stubborn thing.

You expect your interactions with the two of them to end there, but to your surprise, Feferi grabs you by the wrist and pulls you along with her to the next shop. Eridan glares daggers at the place where your skin meets hers, and you do your best to ignore it. You don't see what the big deal is. It's not like you're kissing her passionately and gripping her chest or anything. That must be how Eridan views it though, because he doesn't lessen the intensity of his gaze until she stops walking and drops your hand. Even still, you can feel Eridan watching you. Which makes absolute no sense because _she_ was the one who initiated contact, not you. This goes beyond jealousy. It's pretty much straight-up possession. You wonder if Feferi knows. Probably not, based on the fact that she still goes near him.

"Um, I don't mean to be rude," you begin, getting Feferi's attention, "but you want to keep talking to me because…?" You don't get it. You haven't said anything all that noteworthy.

Feferi nods, smiling widely as she turns back to the stand. It's a fruit stand, and all of the produce looks to be old. It's winter, so fresh crops aren't all that easy to come across. Still, nothing has rotted yet, and you seriously doubt that Feferi is actually going to eat them. "Of course!" She says in a chipper tone. "I love making new friends! It doesn't happen too often because Eridan over here scares them all off." She scowls, elbowing him in the side playfully. Despite her words though, Feferi doesn't seem genuinely upset, and she smiles at him.

You feel bad for Eridan. He's so deep in the friendzone that you don't think he even realizes it anymore.

"Speaking of making friends," she continues, "we haven't been properly introduced!" Feferi holds her hand out for you to shake. "I'm Feferi Piexes, and this is Eridan Ampora." A quick flick of the wrist in his general direction.

You hum a little, shaking her hand firmly a few times before dropping it. "I'm Karkat… Vantas." They gave out last names, so you will, too. "The commoner you are apparently wanting to hang out with?" You frown in confusion.

"Well, it's just that-" Feferi sighs, twisting a strand of hair around her pointer finger. Definitely a nervous habit. "I don't actually get to talk to commoners very often." She admits.

You raise an eyebrow. "But I heard that you passed out all of the stuff you buy to homeless people?" You ask. But maybe John isn't the best source for information like this.

This statement seems to upset Feferi, as she sighs and shakes her head. "No. I have to get my servants to do it for me." She explains. "My mother wouldn't let me associate with people who make so little money. Which is why I've started coming here every winter alone. Well, with Eridan." A wave in his direction. "But he's promised to tell mom that he kept me on my best behavior." Feferi smiles again, and Eridan looks away. These two are very odd for nobles. You do wish that you could remember why Feferi looks so familiar to you, though. Where have you seen her before? It's really beginning to bother you. Eridan isn't all that familiar. But the chances of him leaving her alone are slim to none. So… where are you remembering her from, then?

"Sounds like a great friend." You remark dryly. Eridan picks up on your sarcastic tone, glaring sharply at you. You ignore him. Feferi doesn't seem to notice, and nods happily in agreement.

"He is!" She nods, her hair bouncing around her with the movement. "We've been friends for as long as I can remember, since our parents know each other!" Feferi smiles fondly, likely remembering something from childhood, and you see Eridan soften a little. Love is disgusting, you decide. It's like the way Dave looks at John. Sickening.

You hum a little, when a thought occurs to you. "If you want… Feferi…" You use her name hesitantly, earning yourself a sharp look from Eridan, but she just waits for you to continue. "I can show you how us commoners live. It will get you out of the cold, and I'm sure that your friend over here is starting to get tired of holding all this stuff." You suggest, gesturing to Eridan for emphasis.

Feferi nods rapidly, looking at her friend with wide eyes. "Eridan!" She snaps, grabbing some of the stuff he's holding. "Why didn't you say you were getting tired? I would have helped sooner!" Her tone is more worried and concerned than angry though, and Eridan is flushed from more than just the cold as she helps him out. You step forward to offer your assistance, but Feferi shoos you back. You don't mind. If she wants to carry her own things, then who are you to stop her? At least you can say that you tried. Like the gentleman you are apparently becoming.

When all is said and done, Feferi is carrying half of her things. Eridan had protested at first, but begrudgingly accepted her help once it became clear that she wasn't going to back down. It probably doesn't hurt that his load is a lot lighter now. He looks relieved. You've found that Eridan is a lot easier to tolerate when he's not talking. It's not like he's some crawling blob monster or anything. You think that Eridan is fairly good looking. His nose is a little disproportionate to his jaw, and his eyes are on the thin side, but neither of those things are really a huge deal. You hadn't even noticed until you started looking for reasons to dislike him. But you're not petty enough to hold something like his features - inherited from his mom and dad and _not_ his choice - against him.

Even though it would be really easy.

"So," Feferi turns to you once she has everything situated. She does her best not to show that she's struggling, but it's pretty easy to see that she isn't accustomed to carrying so much stuff. "are you going to show us to your house?" Excitement works it's way into her voice. You honestly don't get it. Commoners really aren't all that fascinating. At least Eridan seems to have warmed up to you. Slightly.

You nod a little, smoothing out your put-off expression. "Yeah, sure thing." You say slowly. "That is- if you're bodyguard over here is confident that this isn't a murder." You probably shouldn't have said that.

Eridan gives you a funny look, like he's actually considering you to be a threat, and Feferi just laughs. Apparently, this time she picks up on your sarcastic tone. "Oh, Karkat!" She chortles, wrenching one hand out from underneath her pile of pointless shit to set on your arm. She leans in close to talk into your ear. "My mom would have you killed if you so much as _twitched_ menacingly in my direction." Feferi hissed, grinning widely all the while. "You would not be here if you were even the _tiniest_ threat to me, and I know you were joking, but I don't think you understand just how far her reach is."

After that she pulls back, appearing to take satisfaction from the absolutely terrified look on your face. "Alright, then." Feferi shifts her other hand back under the pile, right back to being cheery. "You were showing us to your house?"

How do you get yourself into situations with all these crazy people, again?

* * *

"Alright." You sigh, defeated, as you push open the door to your apartment. "This is where I live." You tell them, gesturing at the suddenly tiny space. Feferi looks to be in some sort of horrified awe, but she still sets her stuff down on the counter when you gesture for her to do so. Eridan follows suit, but he doesn't look surprised like she does. He just looks disgusted and kind of confused, like maybe he's trying to wrap his mind around how you can live with so little space. It's kind of pathetic.

Feferi's huge hoop skirt takes up so much room that you honestly aren't sure how she even got in the door. But she seems to be an expert at navigating in one, because she squeezes into your sitting area with little problem. "Well, this is... " She trails off, searching for the right words, "...homely."

You snort, and roll your eyes. "Yeah. That's one way of putting it." You let Feferi and Eridan explore your little living room and move to dig around in the cupboards. "Do you drink tea?" You ask over your shoulder, pulling out the tea leaves that Dave gave you the other day. He said that they were peppermint, your favorite, but you haven't tried them yet, so you aren't sure if he was kidding or not. Well, whatever. You'll make them anyway.

"Yes." Eridan says shortly, sounding hesitant, like he isn't sure if he's allowed to speak just yet. Feferi doesn't correct him though, so he leans back in his seat, satisfied. Great. Now you have to deal with whatever-the-fuck his personality is, too. So far, you've avoided having to learn how to read him, but not anymore.

Still, you nod and get out three cups. "You can have peppermint, then." You tell them. It isn't up for debate. Eridan looks like he wants to argue with that, but he pauses, and must decide that it isn't worth it, because he doesn't say anything.

A few minutes later, you're pressing warm cups into their hands, sitting down in the last available chair. Feferi sips her tea gingerly, and you can tell that it's not as good as what she's used to. Still, it must not be completely terrible either, because she drinks it with practiced poise. Eridan is less graceful about the whole thing, making an over-exaggerated face in what you assume is an attempt to hurt your feelings. Yes. Because you so desperately care about what this asshole thinks of your lackluster tea.

"I haven't had peppermint before." Feferi admits as she drinks it. You don't feel the need to mention that it's because peppermint is a rather cheap and common flavor. You think that they know that. "It's really good, Karkat! Where did you get it?"

You shrug, frowning as you look down at your empty cup. You don't really feel inclined to get up and refill it though, so you instead set it down on the table in front of you. "My friend Dave has a friend who has a little herb garden." You explain. "She grows them herself and gives them to Dave, and sometimes he'll give me some." This is a very simple explanation. So you don't understand why Feferi and Eridan look so… surprised?

Eridan raises an eyebrow. "His name is Davve?" He asks, and fuck, it is so hard to take him seriously with that accent. But he hasn't been out-right rude in at least five minutes, so you return the favor by resisting the urge to give a smartass reply.

"Um... yeah?" You tilt your head to the side, frowning in confusion. "Why? Is that some sort of insult to nobles?"

Upon hearing this, Eridan snorts with laughter, and Feferi elbows him harshly until he eventually stops. He's still smiling pretty hard, though. "No, that's not it, Karkat." Feferi says gingerly, shaking her head. "It's just that the name Dave is-"

"Shh!" Eridan cuts her off this time, shaking his head. "Fef, if he doesn't already knoww, then don't bother tellin' him." He says firmly. "It's not like his life'll get any better wwith useless "noble" trivvia." He crosses his arms, giving Feferi a _look_ and she begrudgingly sighs.

"Fine." Feferi pouts, looking away. And that seems to be the end of the conversation, Eridan looking satisfied as he leans back.

There's an awkward pause. You don't know what just happened. Feferi was going to tell you something… useless? Then why does it matter if she tells you? Wait. You know what? Whatever. You don't care. It doesn't matter. You just need to get through this visit. You've pretty much given up all hope of getting useful information out of these two.

Feferi is fiddling with her skirt, pinching and tugging at the fuchsia fabric. You think that you know why, and she looks up at you, biting her lip. "Where's the chamber pot?" She asks quietly. And yeah, you were right.

You shake your head. "There isn't one. We have an outhouse around the back of the building, though." You tell her. She grimaces at the thought. Still, relief is relief, and Feferi gets to her feet, Eridan following suit.

"Do you need help, Fef?" He offers. "Someone to… hold your skirt?" They share a look, disgust crawling over both of their features at the implications.

She considers it for a moment, then shakes her head. "No, I've got it. I know how to pull my skirt up." Feferi tells him, and Eridan slowly sinks back down into his seat. "I can handle something like an outhouse." She says, but it sounds like she's mostly talking to herself. It's all kind of amusing to you. Seriously. What's the big deal about an outhouse? Still, Feferi takes a deep breath, steadying herself, then walks over to the door. "Be back soon!" She calls over her shoulder, then the door shuts behind her and you're alone with Eridan.

You count down from three in your head.

You don't even get to one before Eridan is on his feet, his fist knotted in your shirt collar as he hauls you out of the chair. He's aiming to intimidate, as evidenced by the way he's snarling at you, but you stare back with exasperation. You've been hired to kill people more important than him. You're all but dead inside, anyway. Him actually killing you probably wouldn't faze you.

"Can you let go?" You ask irritably, frowning like his existence is the most inconvenient thing you've ever had to deal with. He's starting to crease your hood- the one you always wear, and have worn for as long as you can remember.

Eridan just holds you tighter, almost choking you. Not that you let him see that. "Wwhy should I?" He shoots back, one eyebrow raised. "You talked about hurtin' Fef. I'm not as trustin' as she is. Howw coincidental is it that you start talkin' to us and wwe just _happen_ to end up at your "house"?" He spits out the word, using his free hand to do the air quotes.

You scowl, pushing his hands off of you and standing up straight. "I was just trying to be nice, but if you'd prefer me to be a complete dick, I can do that much easier." You tell him. "I mean- it's not like _you_ in particular have done anything to _deserve_ good treatment, have you?" You jab your finger into his chest for emphasis.

He looks flabbergasted, offended either because you're touching him or because you implied that he doesn't deserve anything. Not that you really _care_ why he's offended. "Don't deservve-?" His expression clouds over with anger. "Wwho the anglin' _fuck_ do you think you are, peasant? Do you havve any idea wwho my father is?"

"No!" You snap, glaring up at him. "No, I do not, and you know what? It doesn't fucking matter! You still wouldn't deserve anything if your father created something that eliminates the need to _shit_! That's _his_ accomplishment! What have you ever done? Do you even know that the word "struggle" or "suffer" _means_?" You're fuming now, no doubt red in the face as you just barely keep yourself from screaming at him.

If you're red, then Eridan is practically purple as shakes with rage. "I've _suffered_!" He doesn't bother with volume control. "Do you know who my mom was? A fucking _whore_. Some common whore that didn't deserve to carry me, and I've had to pay for it every _second_ of every _day_ of my entire shitting _life_!" He looks like he wants to hit you. You don't see why he doesn't.

"At least you _know_ your parents." You seethe. This catches Eridan off guard, his expression creasing in confusion as you advance on him. "My parents could be bakers or blacksmiths or strangers who made a drunken mistake, or maybe even the fucking queen and king, but I'll never know because they're _dead_!" You walk forward, pushing him back bit by bit as Eridan tries to put distance between the two of you. The backs of your eyes sting. You don't care. You don't want to stop now that you've gotten started. "Or worse, they just didn't _want_ me! And- and-" You're crying now, tears burning your cheeks as he looks on, silent and maybe even a little concerned. "And I used to think that things would get better!" You continue. "I had a friend, like what you have with Feferi. He- he trusted me, and-" The tears come faster. Memories flash in your mind. They hurt- just as much as they did the first time you were greeted by them in your dreams. "And now he's dead!" You manage finally. Any concern that Eridan was holding back is now clearly visible on his face. "I- I killed him! He trusted me and I- I got him run through with a fucking sword!"

You latch onto Eridan's shirt front, burying your face in his chest as your body shakes with silent sobs. He hesitates, unsure, and loosely wraps his arms around you. He doesn't say anything- Eridan just holds you and lets you cry. He's still doing that when Feferi returns, and they must exchange a _look_ , because then she's pressed against you from behind, hugging you as well.

All you can do is cry.


	9. Echo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name,  
> like a fool at the top of my lungs.  
> Sometimes when I close my eyes, I pretend I'm alright,  
> but it's never enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, you guys have no idea how fucking hard it is for me to keep from breaking down and spilling everything. It's so fucking hard. I have so much shit planned. (If you have any theories yet, I'd love to hear them.)

_It was your first mission with him._

_Your task was to infiltrate a party dressed as two servant boys and find and kill Count Emsworth without getting caught. The reward was enough to keep you and him alive and with a roof over your heads for the next few months. He had insisted upon joining you. "It's my house, too" he had argued. You didn't want to argue. You loved him too much for that, so you caved and let him join you. Why wouldn't you, after all? It was supposed to be routine and easy._

_It wasn't._

_"Gamzee?" Your voice was low, whispering his name as you eased through the hallways. You had been separated at some point during the party. Your apron had been discarded, the tray of fancy finger foods that you were supposed to be handing out tossed in the trash long ago. Your sickle was pressed against your thigh under your pants. It's familiar weight was the only thing keeping you calm. He wasn't supposed to be alone. Gamzee couldn't be alone. He wasn't… right. He needed you._

_Up ahead, a door was open just a crack, candlelight spilling out into the hallway. Giggling and muffled whispers brought you closer. There were two people in the bed just beyond the door, oblivious to the world outside of the room as their naked bodies moved as one. Shy touches, breathless moans- it was every bit an intimate moment between the Count and his mistress. You wondered for a moment if his wife knew of his infidelity. She probably did. Everyone did._

_You weren't the only one watching, though._

_How Gamzee had gotten into the room without them noticing, you'll never know. He was standing at the far end of the room, well out of reach of the light that the few weak candles cast. You only noticed him because you were looking. The two on the bed? They had no idea._

_You reached and grabbed your sickle. Gamzee made eye-contact with you. He was holding his clubs, his grip so tight that they were shaking._

_He once mentioned that this was how his mother had ended up with him. His mom was a bed wench to a very important man. He had never specified what his dad was, but his mom had left as soon as she discovered she was pregnant and she had raised him as best as she could before falling ill Gamzee was still young when she passed away. You knew that he hated what was occurring in the bedroom - that he had been expecting this and was waiting for it so that he could strike when it would be most satisfying for him._

_You shook your head. "No." You mouthed. The girl was one of his servants- not the target. You didn't want to hurt her. Gamzee didn't reply. You hadn't expected him to._

_Before he could do anything stupid, you made a reckless decision. You could at least get the girl out alive. Gamzee would be less forgiving if he struck first, so…_

_You slammed the door open as hard as you could, thankful that the bed was right by the door as you swung your sickle down. You realized your mistake as soon as the Count turned, using the girl as a shield. She let out a sick, wet choking sound, her bare body writhing in pain as she jerked, coughed up blood, and went limp. He dropped her body to the floor, uncaring. You recognized her. She wasn't his mistress. She was the cook from earlier- who gave you the food tray to hand out. She was nothing to him. Nothing but... bait. Fuck._

_He reached under the bed, swinging a sword at you with startling speed. You jerked back, swallowing a hiss as a shallow cut appeared up your right leg. The Count didn't seem to have a problem with his state of dress, climbing off the bed. "Did you think that I wasn't expecting you?" He asked, sounding smug. "You assassins are so predictable."_

_You weren't watching him anymore. Your gaze was over his shoulder, locked on Gamzee as he eased out of the shadows, an angry look on his face. He wasn't thinking clearly. He was too furious. As for the Count- he was perfectly sane. And to make it worse, you realized, he had known the whole time that Gamzee was watching. Slowly, the situation dawned on you, horror spreading across your features._

_Two things happened at once._

_Gamzee dove at him, club prepared to drop. At the same time, the Count turned, his sword held straight out._

_"No!" You screamed, a broken, strangled cry as Gamzee impaled himself on the weapon. You don't remember a lot of what happened after that. You remember fury more potent than you've ever known it as you sunk your nails into the Count and tore into him. You remember wondering how no one heard his screams as you ripped him apart. You remember shaking, and getting blood in places that you didn't even know you had places. There wasn't much of a body left when you finished. Your sickle had been broken beyond use at some point, and you had resorted to using your hands and teeth. You found out that you are apparently able to snap bone clean in half, and that a person's insides are too easy to shred into. It's a wonder how a species as weak as yours could possible rule this planet._

_You were still shaking - this time, with sorrow - as you pulled Gamzee's limp form against you. You held him for what felt like hours, your face buried in his chest as your sobbed and he gradually went cold beneath you. Through it all, you could only think one thing._

_"My fault my fault my fault-" you told yourself on repeat. It was your fault. You hadn't wanted him to come with you for this. You could have rejected the job all together. You could have left without him- insuring that he was safe at home. You could have blocked the blow with your body, or killed the Duke earlier, so that Gamzee wouldn't have had to._

_You did this to him. The boy you loved was dead, and it was your fault, and you would never let yourself forget it._

* * *

You jerk awake in bed, breathing hard and practically soaked with sweat as you stare up at the darkened ceiling of your room. The blankets and sheets are tangled around you, half of the pillows on the floor as you try to calm yourself. You run a hand through your hair. Fuck. You haven't had to relive that in almost two years. But you should have known that your demons wouldn't let you go that easily.

You've had little flashes of the… "incident" in the three months since you broke down in front of Eridan and Feferi, but nothing that- nothing that detailed. Nothing so fucking _real_. God, you can almost feel his blood sticking your hair to your forehead, and the thought makes you want to gag.

You toss the blankets and sheets to the floor, uncaring as you stand up on your shaky legs. You just need to get out of here. Where you're going to go, you aren't sure, but you need fresh air. It's getting close to April, so the outside is getting warm. As such, you don't bother with layers. You slip on your boots, your old cloak, and head out.

Sometimes, when you wake up around the time you usually go to work, you go up to Dave's door. You have yet to actually knock. You tell yourself that just knowing he's there if you need him is good enough. It's not his problem. It's your problem, and you will deal with it accordingly.

Even if that means heading out at three in the morning with nothing but the clothes on your back.

You just need time to think- clear your head and all of that good stuff. You need- a therapist, or something, or just a lesson on how to accept things and move on. You aren't sure if you'll ever be able to accept it, though. Gamzee was- everything to you. He's the reason you know that you can never be in a romantic relationship. With a girl, that is. You- really don't like thinking about it, but…

You sigh, and stop walking. You don't recognize this part of town. It's weirdly empty and run-down. You guess that the demolition team hasn't had a chance to get down here yet. You look up, watching the clouds move at a snail's pace in front of the moon. It's nearly full tonight- just a little sliver is still missing. The stars twinkle high above you, helping to light up the abandoned street stretching in front of you. You get the feeling that you shouldn't be here. It's eerie and foreboding- sending chills down your spine that have nothing to do with the cool night air.

You turn to head back the way you came, but when you do, you run directly into a solid chest. You stumble back, surprised, and the brute takes the opportunity to knock you to the ground. The breath gets knocked out of you painfully, and you're too busy trying to breathe and thinking through the pounding in your head to get up while you have the chance. A foot - heavy and solid - presses against your chest. He applies pressure, only stopping once you're squirming and groaning in pain and your face is purple with lack of oxygen. It's going to leave a bruise. You don't care - you just want to get back in your nice, warm bed and off of the frozen ground.

"Well, look-y what we got 'er." Someone says to the side of you. A boy- about eighteen if you had to guess. "One o' those middle-class snobs on our territory." You can hear the sneer and contempt in his voice, and it sends liquid fear shooting through your veins. They aren't looking for money. They just want to hurt you.

Your struggles begin anew, and you hear a growl from your left. A third guy? How many are there? "Hold the fuck _still_!" He snaps, and the command is punctuated with a sharp kick in between the ribs.

You're back to trying to breathe, which understandably puts your escape efforts on hold. And all of this because you have a decent job and wanted to go for a late night walk.

There's a moment of stillness, and once you're back to breathing semi-well, the guy standing over you lifts his foot up. You still can't get up, not that it matters. He grabs you by the front of your shirt, hoisting you partly off the ground. It's hard to make out distinctive features in the dark, but you can tell that he hasn't washed in a while. Dirt sticks to his face like a permanent mask, making his near black eyes appear even darker. Everything about him is dark. His skin looks blackened, but on second glance, it's just more mud. Maybe he's dark even with all of the crud wiped away. You suppose that it doesn't really matter. He's big, though, and far sneakier than someone his size should be. You don't know how you're going to get out of this.

You study each other for a moment, and he must see something that he doesn't like, because he snarls and pulls his fist back to punch you. You wince, recoiling as far as you can manage, but the sound of flesh hitting flesh isn't accompanied by any pain.

There's a thump and a low groan to the left, and the guy holding you tightens his grip, ignoring you as you gasps for breath and clawed at his hand. "Hey!" He shouts, and drops you without warning. You land in a heap, your head spinning as you stare up at the stars. Your lungs burn. Everything feels tender, and you groan. You're an assassin, sure, but you hardly ever get into fights. The job is usually done before that can happen. Oh, why did you have to leave the apartment without your sickles?

"Hey." It's not one of the three- instead, it's a familiar voice that you can't quite place. He nudges you in the side with his foot gently, luckily on the side that isn't bruised. You blink, frowning at the hand hanging in your vision for a moment before you recognize what he wants you to do. You take his hand, pulling yourself up into a sitting position. "You okay?" He asks, kneeling next to you.

You nod, still trying to get your bearings. "Thanks…" You look over at him, and it takes a second to recognize him, but you know him nonetheless. "Sollux?" You can't hide the surprise or confusion in your voice. Out of all the people who could have saved you, you weren't expecting the string bean that you haven't seen in almost two years.

"Yeah." Sollux confirms, pulling you to your feet. He hangs around for a moment in case you fall, and once you have your balance, he moves back to a distance that you're comfortable with. You soon make another realization.

"You're bleeding." You say, frowning in concern. There's blood leaking from his mouth- more that you'd like there to be. You step forward, gripping his chin to hold him still as you use your sleeve to try and wipe the blood off.

Sollux watches you silently - like he's unfamiliar with kind gestures such as this - but doesn't try to pull out of your loose grip. "It's just my teeth." He explains, pulling his lips back to show you. Two of his teeth have been knocked clean out. The oversized incisors, you think. You'll need proper lighting to be sure.

You are then struck by realization for yet a third time. "Hey. You don't have a lisp anymore." It's kind of weird to hear him talk without it. You almost hadn't noticed.

He gingerly touches the area where his tooth was, wincing a little. "I guess not." Sollux frowns as he says this, working his jaw back and forth. You wonder how it feels to suddenly have so much space in his mouth.

"We should probably clean your mouth out." You say, taking him by the forearm. You have to orientate yourself for a moment, but the castle is aglow with torch light, even at this distance, so you just start walking towards it. It seems like the safest bet. You lead him that way, more alert than before as you keep an eye out for familiar streets or suspicious shadows.

After a moment, Sollux seems to realize what you're doing, and his walking slows as he grows visibly uncomfortable. "Karkat, you _really_ don't have to take care of me." He tries to say, but you aren't having any of his bullshit.

You haven't had a good night's sleep in months, so you're cranky and irritable and you have a headache from hitting the ground and you've _just_ decided that selflessness is your biggest pet peeve. "The fuck I don't!" You snap, whirling on him. You completely forget that Sollux is your superior and could fire you with a flick of the wrist. That isn't important to you right now. "You are going to shut your damn mouth and let me take care of you, because I'm not hearing any complaints! If you didn't want this, you should have thought about that before you got your ass kicked helping me. Am I understood?" You're practically screaming at him, his collar bunched up in your fists as you pull him close to get your message across.

The bewilderment on his face is almost laughable, and Sollux slowly nods. "Y-Yeah. I got it." He says quietly, watching you warily.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself and pull back. "Good." You reply. This time, when you take his forearm and lead him towards your apartment. Sollux lets you.

* * *

You set a wooden bowl full of warm water on the table in front of him. Sollux raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything. He hasn't since you blew up at him earlier. You don't think that he trusts himself, or just that he doesn't trust you. Either way, he's silent. You wet a cloth in the water and wipe off his chin. He winces when you scrub too hard to get some of the dried blood, but doesn't protest. When you wet the cloth again, the water you leave behind in the bowl is tinted pink.

"Open your mouth." You say quietly. Sollux does so, and you gently use the cloth to dab at his gums. They don't look too torn up to you, but you don't really know anything about teeth. At least he won't get an infection. You think. You hope? It doesn't matter. "Hold this here." You tell him, and again, Sollux does as he's told, holding the cloth in his mouth as you straighten back up. You take the bowl and dump the bloody water out the window before letting the curtains fall back into place.

The room is as silent as the sleeping world rested just outside the door. You have only two candles to light the area, and the far corners of the room are cast in tall, dancing shadows. You don't mind too much. You're used to the quiet, dim nights by now. You can't go on a walk every time you have a nightmare. Usually, you curl up on the couch and stare at the window until sunlight begins to peak over the horizon. Then - and only then - will you get to your feet and start the day. You haven't told Kanaya anything yet, but she can tell that there's something wrong. So can Dave. You typically try not to talk too much - lest you slip and reveal something that you shouldn't - but now you're so quiet that it scares them. Yelling at Sollux was the longest and loudest thing that you've said in a long time. You can't bring yourself to care.

You take the cloth from Sollux, setting it on the counter for when you do laundry later in the week. You do that in the town square with Dave, and sometimes John and Jade join you, depending on their work schedules. They talk about you when they think you aren't listening, not that they have any idea what the reason for your sudden change in behavior is. Sometimes you think that you're just being ridiculous. Other times, you think that you aren't being ridiculous enough.

"How does your mouth feel?" You ask as you take a seat across from Sollux. He seems caught off guard by the question. It feels weird to you, too. It's so quiet in the little room. Talking feels like you're disrespecting something sacred.

He rolls his jaw experimentally, then nods some. "It feels better." He responds. You know that he's trying not to make it obvious, but it's clearly a huge relief to him to not have a lisp. Even if he had to get punched in the mouth to fix the problem. You aren't entirely sure how he got rid of those three guys who were likely much bigger than him. You don't even know what he was doing out so early in the morning. You'll have to ask.

You hum in acknowledgement. "Good." Is all you say. Silence falls between the two of you once more. You don't mind so much. You've always prefered quiet over anything else. Maybe it's a good thing then that your friends can coax such loud reactions from you and pull you out of your comfort-zone. Your life would be very, very boring if it were as quiet as you would like it to be.

Sollux sighs and shifts in his seat. "You don't have to come in to work today." He speaks up suddenly. You frown in confusion, staring at him. "Obviously, I can give you the day off if you need… time after what happened."

The elaboration helps, but you still don't like what he's saying. "Are you going to work in the morning?" You think you know the answer, but you ask anyway.

Now it's his turn to frown, and Sollux nods. "Well, yes, but-" You guessed his answer correctly.

"Then I can suck it up and go, too." You reply. The tone in your voice says that you aren't going to be changing your mind within this lifetime, but either Sollux doesn't hear it, or he honestly thinks that he can be more stubborn than you, because his frown deepens.

"You were up for a reason." He points out. "And I'm not going to pry since it really isn't any of my business, but I can tell that this isn't your first late night walk, is it?" Sollux raises an eyebrow - daring you to argue - but you can't. He's right. Exactly right.

Things were much harder just after Gamzee's death. You actually started just falling asleep in random places because your body was too sleep-deprived to continue on. It wasn't healthy. You lost maybe fifteen pounds during the first few months after he died, and completely forgot what it was like to feel awake. But the dreams slowly became less frequent. The memories gradually moved to the back of your mind, if only because your boss finally threatened to kill you if you didn't get your ass back into the swing of things. She's a fan of tough love, but without the love. At the very least, it worked. You got back on your feet. You taught yourself to forget - just long enough to get the job done. But ignoring something isn't the same as coping. You ignored the wound instead of trying to heal it, and now it's been torn open so wide that you're losing yourself in it.

You have to look away from him. "It doesn't matter." You murmur. "It's not as if you were out for a casual walk, either." You point out. It's in his eyes - the way he focuses in and out of reality; the set of his body. You're good at reading people - you have to be. Sollux is anything but relaxed.

Sollux sizes you up for a moment, considering you, then he sighs. "Well, I guess it's not really a huge secret or anything…" He reaches into his shirt, and pulls out a silver locket on a thin necklace. It looks old and worn, but also well-cared for. He takes could care of it, and it's obvious with the way he clutches it in his fist. It's important to him. Most likely for sentimental reasons. Wow. You… never pictured Sollux as the type to keep mementos.

"Today is..." he struggles for the right words, "an anniversary, I guess." Sollux tells you finally. "The locket was a present for my birthday. Well, she thought it was my birthday." He corrects himself. "I don't know when exactly my birthday is. And I told her that she didn't have to get me anything just to celebrate getting older, but she insisted." A fond little sigh follows that statement, and you wait patiently. If Sollux wants to reminisce on a time that clearly makes him happy, then who are you to interrupt him?

After another moment of silence though, you take the initiative and clear your throat. "So… who is "she"?" You ask once you have his attention. His sister? Mom? Girlfriend? A co-worker? The list goes on.

"My wife." Sollux says. He's not looking at you when he says this. His eyes are glued to the window, his locket tight in his grasp as he fiddles with it nervously.

You frown. "I didn't… realize that you're married." You say tensely, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. Something about the look on his face makes you feel like he's not telling you the whole story, and it's incredibly disconcerting.

He shrugs. "I was."

And there's that thing you knew he wasn't telling you. You don't say anything for a moment, your lips parted uselessly to give a condolence that never comes. If Sollux is anything like you, than he's probably sick of the "I'm sorry"s and the pity and the fake sympathy that you've been conditioned to offer when someone is upset. So you skip right over that. "She's dead?" You ask instead.

Sollux smiles dryly at you. "Yeah." He nods. "She is. Her name was- is Aradia. She… died in childbirth." He's still smiling, but you can see how much it hurts to say that out loud - to think about how the woman he loved - still loves - lost her life.

"Oh." You say quietly. You aren't sure what else there is to be said. Except… "Did the- did your baby make it?" Sometimes the child survives even if their mother doesn't.

But Sollux is shaking his head before you've even finished your sentence. "No. The baby- didn't come out right. He got stuck and… suffocated." Sollux tells you quietly, looking out the window. It probably helps him feel disconnected- like the story is happening to someone else. "Split the skin really bad. There was… so much blood, and I-" he swallows hard, "all the blankets in the house couldn't make the bleeding stop."

You are perfectly okay with the silence that stretches between the two of you. You've seen a lot of things in your line of business, but that? Watching your wife and only child die right in front of you? It's no wonder that Sollux is so unhappy and irritable.

"Long story short, that's the reason I was out was to visit her grave. Kind of late, but… this is the time when she died. Three in the morning." He finishes faintly, closing his eyes.

You bite down on your lower lip, chewing on it as you think. "Tell me about her - Aradia." You say suddenly, looking up at him. You want to cheer him up, and the topic of one's wife has worked before. With the way Sollux talks about her, this will definitely work.

"I don't know if I want to-" He begins, then cuts himself off with a sigh. "Alright. Her name was Aradia Megido, and we grew up together." Uh oh. Childhood friends. That means that you're going to be here a while. You shift a little, getting comfortable, and prepare to wait. "I never knew my parents, and she never knew her mom, so her dad more or less raised us. He gave us food and shelter and a few coins or advice when we asked, but mostly, we were left alone to do what we wanted. And I remember-" Sollux chuckles, "-I remember being six and seeing a newly wed couple walk out of a church, and I looked at her and I said, "someday that'th going to be uth" - and she agreed." He used a higher voice for his younger self, throwing the lisp in with little difficulty. He's smiling now, and you're glad. You have such a weak heart. Seeing people unhappy makes you incredibly uncomfortable.

"And when we finally were old enough to marry," Sollux continues, and you hurry to refocus on the story, "I kept my promise. I asked her to marry me, and she said, and I quote, "sure, why not?" and-" He smothers more laughter, "-and we didn't even really want to be married, but her dad was pressuring her to settle down, and being married to your best friend is pretty nice, I think. It wasn't much of a change from how we usually were anyway, since we were living together by that point. The only difference was that children were expected after marriage, and…" His expression clouds over, "...that clearly didn't go well."

You swallow a sigh, and look away. And it was working so well, too. Maybe you shouldn't try to cheer Sollux up. He's obviously struggled with this for a while, and you know from personal experience that people trying to cheer you up when you're upset just annoys you and makes you snap at them.

Laughter pulls your attention from your melancholy thoughts, and you give Sollux a bewildered look as he shakes with mirth. Why he's laughing, you have no idea, but you don't interrupt as he laughs harder, tears streaming down his face until he finally calms himself. "I-" He tries to say, but cuts himself off to force air into his lungs, "I didn't realize until after she was gone that I- that I love her. As more than a friend. And I never told her." He's still laughing, and you would honestly prefer tears at the moment because the sound of how absolutely _broken_ he is claws at your insides painfully.

"I lost my best friend, too." You force yourself to say. Sollux quiets, just staring at you as he works on getting the tears to stop. You figure that you might as well distract him with a different story, and he at least seems mildly curious, so you take that as a sign to continue. "We were both at an orphanage together. He was all I had. I couldn't remember ever having parents. He remembered his mom, and she had told him his last name before. "Makara" it was. I didn't have one, so he gave me one. I was four years old, but-" You laugh dryly, shaking your head, "he gave me "Vantas" and I think it was because he saw it in a book or something at some point. Fuck, it's been ages. I can't remember it clearly, but the name always stuck."

You stop there before, like him, you can fall into the pitfall of talking about how Gamzee died. The memory is strong. It always has been. God, you just- you just want to be happy again. If Gamzee had died in his sleep or in an accident, then it would be so much easier to move on. But it was your fault. You ultimately lead to his downfall. How could you have ever called yourself a friend? You don't even understand why people are getting close to you now. Can't they see that you'll only end up hurting them?

Sollux is quiet for such a long time that you almost give up on him speaking again at all. Then, finally, slowly, he says, "And you loved him. Didn't you?"

You take a deep breath and nod. There's nothing terribly illegal about loving the same gender, you don't think. It's not like you and Gamzee had sex. You don't even know how that would work with a guy. Obviously there's a way, otherwise doing so wouldn't be punishable by beheading. You have no idea what it is, though. "I did." You say quietly. "And now- the feelings are- faded." It feels good to admit that. "But they're still there."

"And they always will be." Sollux finishes for you, smiling joylessly. You return the smile, relieved. You never thought that someone would understand. Let alone your boss of all people.

Outside your window, the barest beginnings of sunlight are clear as a breeze rustles your curtains. "It's almost time for work." You say, mostly to yourself.

Sollux hums in acknowledgement, and there's a pause. "I hope you know that, if you go into work today, I'll have you fired." He tells you. That's pretty much what you assumed, but it makes you smile anyway.

"And if you go into work today," you counter, "I'll hunt down your teeth and shove them right back into your fucking jaw." This earns you a laugh, and Sollux shakes his head. "Do you want some tea?" You offer once it becomes clear that he isn't going to speak again.

He nods, smiling with a type of fondness that you haven't seen in a long, long time. Why do you have to be so good at making friends? "Please."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goddamn, you have no idea how hard it was to finish this chapter.


	10. This Is Your Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No, can't count the list of things I know are wrong with me.  
> No need to justify them.  
> No, I'll never take the blame, so I'll just stay the same.  
> I'll never stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't ask questions. All shall be answered in due time. (Welcome to the land of exposition.)

"Thanks for agreeing to come with me." John says excitedly, practically bouncing with energy as he stands between you and Dave in the line.

Dave chuckles, putting an arm on John's head to hold him still. You press your lips into a thin line to keep from frowning when you see that. It twists your insides in a violent way. It probably does the same to Dave, but if the genuine smile on his face is anything to go by, he likes the feeling. "Don't mention it." He says, waving his free hand like it's no big deal. "It's not every day that you turn twenty, you know."

You didn't want to come. But then John asked Dave too, and when he said yes, you reluctantly gave up the free time you get after work and agreed to come along. You need to watch Dave, after all. He tends to get… clumsy around John and embarrass himself. You're just being a good friend. Even though you don't believe in fortune-telling at all. It should be an interesting experience, though.

"And on the last day that they're in town." John is smiling hard as he gazes at the fortune tellers' tent looming in front of you. It's a pretty good-size tent, about the size of both yours and Dave's apartment combined. There's a large wagon parked next to it, as it is a _traveling_ fortune teller duo. Obviously. The tent is striped, with different shades of blue and teal going from the top of it to the ground. In front of it, a sign that says, "Your future - completely accurate, guaranteed!" has been hammered into the ground. It all seems like some huge scam to you, but whatever. It's not that expensive - and you have plenty of money anyway, you suppose.

Regardless, you aren't impressed. You don't know how Dave can smile so much at this. It's completely ridiculous. John isn't even a good match for him. Their personalities couldn't handle a relationship - Dave would be too eager to make John happy regardless of how he felt about it, and John is too dense to notice. Like now, for example. You know for a fact that Dave doesn't like fortune tellers. He told you so on the walk over here. You hate having friends. Well, friends that are pathetically in love, at least.

Suddenly, the flap over the entrance is pushed back, and the girl who had been in the line in front of you ten minutes ago is pushed out of the tent roughly. "Out!" A nasal voice snaps, shooing her away. A second woman steps out after the first, and you can immediately tell that she's not from around here.

For one, she's not wearing a dress - not even a skirt. She's wearing white, baggy men's trousers that are clearly too big on her. To keep them up, she's tied a red sash around her skinny waist and tucked the ends into her boots, which are also men's clothing. You know that they don't make boots for women without heels and frills, and even then, typically they're only sold to noble ladies. Which she is clearly not. Her short hair is tangled and there's dirt smudges on her face and her clothes and, well, everywhere. If this is one of the fortune tellers, you can't see the appeal. Isn't she supposed to be putting on a show? You suppose that the loose shirt she's wearing offers… a view, but that alone can't draw a crowd like the one waiting in line outside the tent.

"Get out, you poor excuse for a living creature!" The woman continues to yell, waving the half-angry and half-humiliated girl away from her tent. "And don't come back!" She looks absolutely enraged, huffing, and you get the feeling that you don't want to know why. "Now, then-" She dusts off her shirt like that will make a difference in the stains, and turns to look at you. Well, you think so.

Did you mention that she's blind?

She's tied a red scarf around her eyes, possibly to match the one around her waist. You have no idea how she can see through the thing. It's kind of amazing. The amazement quickly turns to fear though when you realize that, yes, the blind woman is looking directly at you. You can feel it, and it makes your skin crawl. You suppress a shudder, and you swear on your life that she _smiles_. How can she even see that you're uncomfortable? Yeah, you hate fortune tellers. You just want to go home and have some tea. Or something stronger.

Smiling still, she steps forward, and you just barely resist the urge to back up. "You." She says, pointing, but to your surprise, she isn't pointing at you.

John's face lights up, and you officially give up on that guy. How can he not tell how incredibly creepy this girl is? It's absolutely ridiculous that he would want to go somewhere alone with her, even if it's just a tent that you could easily hear through if he screamed. "Really?" He steps forward, and her smile widens impossibly further.

"Yes. John, I'm Terezi." They shake hands, both of them looking positively delighted. You hate your life right now. God, everything about this is awful. John looks amazed that she knows his name, even though she could have easily heard it through the tent at any time considering that you're literally standing ten feet from it and have no volume control. "I think that we're going to get _very_ well-acquainted." Her head doesn't turn as she says this, but you can _feel_ when Terezi's gaze slides over to you.

And then they're both gone with Terezi dragging him into the tent by his hand as John follows like this is the best day of his life.

"Well," Dave sighs once they're gone, running a hand through his hair, "that wasn't creepy at all. Sarcasm, sarcasm, sarcasm." He rolls his eyes in that over-dramatic way of his, and you snort with barely-suppressed laughter.

"She got to you too?" You ask, raising an eyebrow, and Dave nods. You sigh, still smiling as you shake your head. "Fuck. John is way too trusting. That woman - Terezi, right? - so damn unnerving."

You really enjoy moments like these - when it's just you and Dave and stupid, pointless jokes that make you happy and content in a way that you've never known. He has such an incredible effect on you, and you don't get it. He makes you happy, even more so than Gamzee ever did. You don't even think about your mission around him.

Oh, right.

That.

You should probably be working on that, shouldn't you? You haven't even begun to investigate the hatch you found near the perimeter. You need to figure out a way to open it and get a light source down there. Why in the name of all that is holy are you wasting your time by getting your palm read?

The answer is pretty clear. It's standing right next to you. Dave. He's the only reason you came at all. John's birthday means next to nothing to you (that's not to say that you don't like John - birthdays have just never been important for you to celebrate or acknowledge at all). You are really bad at distancing yourself. You should work on that. If only his smile wasn't so damn heartstopping. You still don't understand why you always want to be around Dave. It was the same thing with Gamzee, but this feels… different in a way that you can't put your finger on. It bothers you to no end.

Suddenly, the tent flap is pushed open, and John storms out in a huff. He looks a lot less happy than when he went in, and your suspicions only rise as Terezi stands in the entrance, smiling coyly. "Come back anytime." She practically purrs, and John flushes an angry shade of red.

"Not even in your dizziest daydreams, you weirdo." He snaps, turning his back to her. This doesn't seem to upset Terezi in the least. She's laughing - this unpleasant, cackling sound as Dave shoots her a glare and starts talking to John in a hushed voice.

You can't make out what they're saying, but it doesn't really matter. Terezi doesn't even bother to walk over to you. She just gestures for you to come closer with one finger, cocking an eyebrow as she smirks. You grind your teeth together in frustration, but walk over anyway, like she _knew_ you would. Why are you so predictable?

Terezi moves to the side as you approach, gesturing for you to step into her humble tent. The fact that the inside is nothing but blackness does not help any. "C'mon, Karkat." She coaxes with a low voice. "This is quite possibly the most important milestone on your… quest." She licks her lips, seeing to take pleasure from watching you stiffen in mild shock. "I can promise that you do not want to miss this, and we don't have all day."

You hesitate for just a second longer, shooting a glance at Dave and John over your shoulder before you just sigh and step inside. So predictable. Terezi follows you, letting the tent flap drop as she does. The room is engulfed in darkness, and you try not to let it get to you. You tense when she grabs your arm, your hand twitching for your sickles. But Terezi seems unbothered by your discomfort, just tugging you deeper into the tent. The darkness is actually surprisingly shallow. She only has to take a few steps before she pushes a second flap open and you can see again.

The light - despite it's lack of intensity - makes you wince, blinking rapidly as your eyes adjust. Terezi is, of course, not bothered. You still haven't figured out how she can navigate so smoothly without her sight.

This next room appears to take up most, if not the rest of, the space in the tent. The lights are dimmed, so the end of the room is cast in shadow, but everything close to you is relatively easy to see. Like the other half of Terezi's show, for example.

She is dressed the way you would expect a fortune teller to be - unlike Terezi. Like her partner though, the newcomer is also a fan of loose shirts, wearing a plain white one that she has tucked into the waistband of her skirt. The fabric of the skirt is a shade of cerulean that matches the tent, the ends stopping just below her ankles to remain off the ground. She has a scarf over her shoulders, also in cerulean, and it matches the scarf that she's tied around her head like a turban, long waves of black hair trailing down her back from underneath it. You can't tell if the oversized glasses she's wearing are for show or not, and you almost ask when she smiles. It's not a pleasant expression. It's more like the grin of a spider that's finally lured the naive little fly into it's careful web.

"Karkat, so nice to meet you." She says, striding over to you and shaking your hand with confidence. Her smile has relaxed into something only slightly less off-putting, and you don't trust it, shaking her hand firmly and dropping it quickly. "I'm Vriska, and you've already met Terezi. So, come in, come in! Don't be a stranger." She puts an arm around your shoulder like you've known each other for years, leading you over to a table set up in the middle of the room before you can protest.

There's just two chairs on opposite sides of the table, and it holds only one object. A perfectly circular white orb rests atop a small stand, and you find yourself inexplicably drawn to it. For what reason, you aren't sure, because it doesn't look like any crystal ball that you've ever seen. It's not clear in the least - completely opaque. Still, you stare at it, and you feel like you could do that for all of eternity without complaint. Then Vriska clears her throat, and you look up at her, the trance broken.

You hadn't noticed her move to sit across from you, nor had you noticed Terezi leave, but she's gone when you look up. Vriska must be the main act, then. Alright. You can work with that.

"So," You say before she can speak, "how is this going to work? You ask me obviously general questions and I answer with very specific details until you've gleaned enough on my life to "accurately predict" the future of my marriage?"

This makes Vriska frown, and you think that her gaze drops to the orb before she answers. "You aren't married." She says. "And you don't want to be, either. Did losing him really hurt that much?" It isn't the sympathetic tone that you're used to hearing when people refer to Gamzee. Rather, Vriska sounds amused. It's as if you're just the cutest and most pathetic thing in the world for actually caring about someone.

You shoot up into a standing position, sending your chair skidding back with the force you use. "I don't need to take that from _you_!" You snarl, glaring at her. You're about two seconds from turning around and leaving, and she should feel blessed that you're giving her even that much time.

Vriska sighs, rolling her eyes. "Karkat, really. Calm down. It's a sensitive subject, okay, I get it. I'll leave it alone. Now sit back down, because the way that this meeting goes is going to affect me just as much as it'll affect you, so I need you to hear me out." There's a sense of irritation in her voice, but you can also tell that she's being honest, if only for her own benefit. It's either this or head back outside and watch Dave fall all over himself for a guy that clearly doesn't notice.

So you sigh, making your unhappiness clear as you sink back into your seat. "Fine. I'll stay." You mutter, crossing your arms, but Vriska has stopped listening.

"Alright, good." She grabs your hand, placing it on top of the orb. You let her, if only out of curiosity. "All of the omnipotence in the world can't make heads or tails of your crummy personality…" Vriska mutters. You almost don't hear her, distracted as she places a hand over yours. You swear that the orb glows as she does, lighting up just barely as she closes her eyes. You think that she's focusing, but on what, you aren't sure. You just know that you really want to take your hand back and get the fuck out of whatever you've stumbled into.

"Huh." Terezi says from behind you, and you almost jump right out of your seat. Fuck. You put your free hand over your heart, whirling around to glare at her. You do not take being scared well, and you want to make sure that she knows it. Much like Vriska though, she appears to be more invested in the orb than you. You kind of want to smash it against the wall, but something tells you that that won't work. "So, are the possibilities clearing up?" She asks Vriska, resting her elbows on your head and propping her chin on her hands. It's an incredibly insulting position to you, and you're too vexed to even bother telling her to get off of you. Her elbows are unbelievably bony. You can't help but wonder if this girl ever eats.

Still ignoring you, Vriska nods, frowning in concentration. "Yeah, they are." A pause. "Still… there's too many to be sure. God, why is he so difficult?" This last bit is muttered mostly to herself, and you start to protest, but she beats you to it. "Ugh- even his future. Even after the difficult bit is cleared, he still can't make up his damn mind. There's too many possibilities, and they're too fuzzy to make out." Vriska lets out a frustrated groan and lets your hand go, glaring at the orb like it's the source of all her woes. "I don't think this is going to work. For every decision, there's another ten paths leading off of it. It's a clusterfuck - and a nightmare to navigate. I don't think there's any way to be sure what's going to happen."

Terezi hums in thought, tilting her head up to look at the top of the tent. Why, you haven't got a clue. Isn't it all the same view? "It doesn't matter too much, I don't think." She says. "This was always about manipulation, wasn't it? We just need to narrow our sights on the best path and stick to it." You can hear the grin in her voice, and it makes your hairs stand up on end.

"Well, there is that." Vriska agrees. "Too bad that he's the one making the influential decisions…" She trails off, and your patience snaps.

You stand up, sending Terezi and the chair back (again) as you slam your hands down on the table. "That's it!" You shout, Vriska fumbling for the orb. She catches it just before it hits the ground, and you ignore a small tinge of disappointment. "Someone better explain what the fuck is happening right the fuck _now_ , before I flip this goddamn table along with all of my metaphorical shits and spaz my way out of this tent in a meltdown the likes of which have never been witnessed!" You get all of this out in one breath, covering up your shallow huffs as you lock Vriska in a staredown.

She breaks first - probably because whatever that ball showed her made it clear how stubborn you can be. "Oh, fine!" She huffs, setting the orb back carefully. "No need to throw a tantrum. You could've just asked, you know. It's not like I'm a jerk." There's a silent pause where she rearranges herself - smoothes over her skirt, fluffs her hair - before she speaks again. "I guess that, first things first, I'm not a fraud." She beings. "I can see into the future. My future. And all I can see up to is two weeks from now."

This statement is punctuated with a glare, and you raise an eyebrow. "And this is my fault because…?" You're probably going to regret asking, but it's not like you have anything better to do.

"Because you have such a God-awful personality that the orb can't tell up from down when you're involved!" She huffs. "Our fates get dramatically entwined after this first meeting, and unfortunately, all of the influential decisions - the make or break ones - are left up to you for some reason, even though you can't make a certain choice to save your life."

Behind you, Terezi snickers. "She hates not being in control." She whispers into your ear. You know that Vriska heard, but she must not care, because she keeps right on talking.

"And that's why I needed you here for this." Vriska gestures at the orb. "I can only see my future unless someone else is making contact with the orb or I'm thinking about them. I could get a much better reading on your personality with you actually touching it, and that helped narrow down some of the thousands of ways this story could unfold to only a handful of paths that are actually likely to happen based on your decision making process. The hardest part was getting you here, but…" Vriska licks her lips, smirking, "it's a good thing that your friend John was so eager to drag Dave along. You can't go anywhere without _him_ , can you?" You flush indignantly, and you're about to tell her off for being a complete _bitch_ , but she just _keeps talking_. "It's a shame that John had to leave so soon." She sighs, and Terezi nods her agreement. "He was cute, but I guess that we'll have more opportunities with him later, if all goes well. We'll just have to dial back on the... aggressiveness of our flirting tactics. It kind of scared him off."

You look between the two for a moment, dumbfounded beyond the capability of speech. You have absolutely no idea what they just attempted to explain to you. Vriska can see into the orb apparently? And you're going to be doing some important shit in the future? Oh, well, that's all fine and dandy except for the part where it's _complete and utter bullshit._ "You must be out of your fucking mind if you that that I believe anything you just said." You snap at her. Except the flirting with John part. That makes… way too much sense.

Vriska stares at you for a moment, then turns to look at Terezi. They have what is likely a mind-meld considering all of the other _shit_ that's gone on in this tent, and Vriska sighs. "Fine. But only because this will be a lot easier if you cooperate. Fuck, where to start though-?"

"Probably with your whole talk about the future." Terezi says absentmindedly, sounding almost bored. "Just explain the orb to him. Its as good a start as any, right?"

Thinking about it, Vriska taps her chin in thought, then nods. "Alright, yeah. Why not?" She exhales slowly, then takes a deep breath. You guess that she's steadying herself, but you have no idea why. Like an afterthought, Terezi puts a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down into your chair. You let her. "To begin with, I should admit that I actually can't see into the future unassisted." You snort because, yeah, that much is obvious, and she pointedly ignores you. "This orb here," she gestures at it like there's any other orbs in the room, "has existed since the beginning of time, if what little information there is on it is to be trusted. There's not much, and I've been searching for the long while that I've had it in my possession. What I do know is that not just anybody can read it. Terezi can't, and you can't. Go ahead - try it." Vriska leans back in her chair, seeming completely serious.

You don't trust her in the slightest, but you can tell that she won't be satisfied unless you continue, so you put your hand on the orb thing to satisfy her. It's smooth under your touch, and warm, which you would chalk up to just being a result of the touching if you didn't feel the heat _radiating_. It's moving slightly, and the only thing you can relate it to is breathing. You are touching a breathing orb. Fuck. You almost pull away, but you're so morbidly interested in it now. Copying Vriska, you close your eyes, concentrating on it. You're not surprised when nothing happens.

"See?" Vriska leans forward again, looking way too smug for your liking. "Nothing."

You scowl at her. "That's because it's a fucking _orb_ and you're trying too hard." You say, crossing your arms. "What was supposed to happen? Was it going to whisper the secrets of eternity into my virgin ears?" The little patience you have at even the best of times is rapidly thinning the longer you stay here. "You're really committed to this scam." You mutter.

That finally gets to her, and you can see it in her eyes when Vriska's tolerance snaps. "It's not a scam!" She shouts, and you can't help but feel satisfied that you rile her up the way she does to you. "Not everyone can see into it, alright? You need the Sight, and I _happen_ to have been born with it!"

You raise an eyebrow, playing up the skepticism on your face just because you know it will bother her. "The Sight." You repeat flatly.

She looks like she wants to pull her hair out. Or yours. Either will probably satisfy her. "Yes, the Sight." Vriska hisses through clenched teeth. "Vision twofold. A third eye. There's a whole metric fuck ton of words for it. Not that it matters, because they all mean the same thing: I can see what the orb shows me." She stares at it again, and you swear that it lights up a little at the recognition.

"Uh huh." You can at least admit that she's got you curious. You kind of want to see how far along she's strung this con. It's one of the best one's you've ever heard, that's for sure. Really well thought out. You make a mental note to congratulate her before you leave. "And… what exactly does it show you?" Besides absol-fucking-lutely nothing. You don't need to voice that just yet.

You're not giving her too hard of a time anymore, so Vriska relaxes. You think that talking about the orb or just being near it soothes her a little. It could also be Terezi, who somehow managed to go stand next to her partner without you noticing at all. They're not touching - just standing near each other - and you're not sure for a moment if Vriska even realizes that she's there. The faint smile on her face tells you otherwise. They have a very close relationship apparently, sharing a small moment before Vriska redirects her attention to you.

It takes her a moment to think about how to answer your question. "It's like…" Vriska trails off, frowning. "Time is like a river." She says finally. "The main stream can get cut off or flow into a side pool or get whipped into a frenzy. Every possible choice is a different turn in it's path, and it's become so tangled recently that I can't see how this is going to end for once." She bites her lip, and Terezi puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. You almost feel bad for Vriska. Her weariness is suddenly obvious. She's too pale, and the bags under her eyes rival even yours. "The orb lets me see them, and all of the directions they branch off into." She continues. "Usually, it's pretty easy. But with you…" Her eyes narrow a little. "You're so difficult, Karkat. Making a choice should not be that hard." She sighs, rubbing her temple a little bit. "Whatever. It's getting better, I guess. Having you here to factor your personality into everything is helping. I was starting to get tired of guessing which path some asshole that I don't even know is going to take." When she smiles, it's dry and sarcastic, but not as sharp as it had been when you first met her. You think that she's warming up to you. You're not entirely sure how to feel about that.

"Okay, so, you're telling me that you just happen to have this orb that can show you the future without knowing how it even does that or where it came from?" If your eyebrows were any higher, they would be off of your face completely. Your skepticism is pliable.

Vriska presses her lips into a thin line, but you think that she's done yelling at you for now. "No one knows for sure how they were made. Every story is different, and most of it is just speculation." She explains. You guess that's a fairly decent background for an object that has apparently "existed since the beginning of time." Of course you're doubtful. "As for the how…?" All she can offer is a shrug. "I don't know. I guess that I could crack it open and find out, but then I wouldn't be able to use it anymore. I got it from my mom's pile of junk, so I'm not too crazy about breaking it. But I do know that there's two of them."

There's a glint in her eyes as she says this, something akin to greed or obsession. This second orb must really be all that, then. "See, my orb-" Terezi clears her throat, and Vriska sighs, " _our_ orb can show the possible futures of anyone who comes into contact with it, but it's very broad. If something has even the tiniest likelihood of happening, it will be included. Technically, I could look at anyone's future by just picturing them in my mind, but it's so much easier to navigate that mess if they're in contact with the orb, too. Their personality helps narrow down some of the choices and makes the picture so much clearer, but we've already been over that. Anyway, the future isn't set in stone. It can be influenced or changed by any number of things. However," her smile grows, "the orb's twin- it takes into consideration all of these variables, and gives an absolutely 100% correct answer. No matter what, it's predictions turn out true. The only draw back is actually knowing what to ask. See, it only works in yes or no replies, which is pretty limiting, especially if you don't know what to ask. But combining them-" Vriska looks so terrifyingly passionate about this that you can't help but wonder how long she's been searching for the second one, "combining them will give you complete and total omnipotence. Anyone, anything, anywhere, you would be able to see it. You would know every twist and turn - the punchline to every joke. Can you imagine that?"

It takes you a moment to realize that she actually wants you to answer. "Sounds complicated." You say simply.

All Vriska can offer is a shrug. "Maybe, but wouldn't it be worth it?" She smiles, and you don't reply. You have absolutely no interest in obtaining power of that magnitude. Your life is complicated and stupid, but you like it. It's yours, and you don't need to make it any harder than it already is.

You decide that a change in topic is in order and cross your arms. "So, are you going to tell me about this huge important decision I'll need to make? Some foresight would be nice, and you seem to have plenty to go around."

Terezi laughs a little, not bothering to smother the sound even as you glare at her. "Nope." She says, shaking her head. "Telling you what's going to happen would probably blow your mind, and we still need it intact to make all of these important decisions." You think that she takes some sort of sadistic pleasure out of refusing you like this.

"Actually, she's right." Vriska nods. "You really aren't ready to know, and even if I did tell you, you wouldn't believe me."

You don't know how you keep yourself from decking her right then and there. "Then what the fuck was the point of saying any of this shit to me!" You throw your hands up in exasperation, frustration clear in your voice.

Vriska shrugs, picking up the orb off of it's little stand and tucking it into a velvet bag that you swear she actually pulled out of her ass. "It's, like, the world's most confusing exposition." She tells you after a moment of thought. "It's pretty damn great to see you get frustrated, and it's a very helpful set up for when we meet up again." She doesn't elaborate further, and you think that you're about to be kicked out when she decided to add one last thing. "Oh, and… if I was you, I would be packed. Ready to leave anyday now." Vriska says vaguely.

You wait for her to elaborate, huffing and rolling your eyes as it becomes clear that she doesn't intent to without prompting. "And why is that exactly, o' mystical prophet?" You ask dryly.

"Because you're not going to kill the prince." Vriska says matter-of-factly, and you stiffen. How… could she possibly know about that? You never mention it aloud. Only a handful of people know about this job at all, and she is definitely not supposed to be one of them. But Vriska keeps going, completely ignoring your slack-jawed expression. "Or, at least, if you do, you're going to wish that you hadn't." You almost argue, but the look on her face tells you that she's dead serious. Emphasis on the word dead. "You are going to wish you hadn't." She says slowly, taking special care with pronouncing each syllable. "The consequences are beyond anything you can imagine."

You don't even have the urge to argue with that. Vriska sounds so certain, despite all the different ways this could apparently go down. Not that you believe any of that nonsense about the orb and the future. Definitely not.

"Alright, shouty." Terezi says, humor in her words as she grabs you by the bicep and tugs you towards the exit. "This visit is officially over. We'll be meeting again soon, so try not to miss me too much." She pushes you out of the tarp before you can object, shouting a quick, "We're closed!" before disappearing back into the tent. When you try and push back into the tent, it doesn't budge. You're already too dumbfounded to react much to that.

As the rest of the people waiting in line begin to leave with disappointed groans all around, Dave and John approach you. You're mildly surprised that they waited for you, but you don't say as much.

"You look like you just got trampled by a horse." Dave says flatly. You have the thought that you should sarcastically thank him for being such a damn charmer, but you suddenly don't have the energy to be a smartass.

John puts an arm around your shoulder, tugging you against him. "There there, Karkat." He says in a voice that is supposed to be soothing but actually just pisses you off a little bit. "Don't pay those girls too much attention. They just get a kick out of fucking with the heads of perfectly pleasant customers." He frowns. You kind of want to ask for details on what exactly Vriska's "aggressive flirting" meant, but the look on his face tells you that you really actually don't want to know.

"Yeah." You agree quietly, frowning at the ground. "They're just fucking with me…"

* * *

The next time you're able to sneak away at work, you bring a torch with you, tucked under your clothes. You light it once you're in the tunnel, the wooden hatch a lot clearer now. You open it, and are surprised to see that it isn't too far of a drop. The tunnel is a few inches taller than you, and not as abandoned as you had first assumed. It's actually fairly nice. However, you are prevented from exploring further as the tunnel quickly comes to a dead end, boarded up with rotting wood. You mutter a few curses under your breath, and begrudgingly turn around. Another day, then. When you actually have a prying tool on hand.

You don't care what Vriska says. You're going to kill the prince, and you're going to get the reward money, and you're going to get the fuck away from this town and all of the confusing feelings that come with it.

What other choice do you have?


	11. Desperate Measures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a first effort this,   
> feels kinda last ditch.  
> I guess things just   
> got kinda drastic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that after this chapter, these characters will never cook again.

John pounding on Dave's door and interrupting your tea time is not how you expected the afternoon to go.

You just want to relax, sip tea and spend time with Dave (a desire that you've officially given up trying to ignore), and what do you get instead? John half-yelling, half-rambling about a problem that would probably sound pretty damn serious if he was talking slow enough for you to actually understand him. It's irritating beyond words, but the worst part is how damn interested in it Dave is. You know for a fact that he isn't following a single word that comes out of John's mouth. You can tell from the look on his face. He's trying, bless him, but John talks at a speed that breaks some kind of world record, you're sure.

Finally, you decide that enough is enough and sigh. "John." You try to keep as much of the irritation out of your voice as possible, not that you do it well. Either way, you get his attention. "If you want our help, I'd consider talking at a speed that is actually comprehensible." The best you can get is a few words here and there when he has to stop to breathe. It's not a very efficient form of communication.

His cheeks turn a faint shade of red in embarrassment, and John smiles sheepishly. "R-Right." He nods. "Sorry about that, I just-" A sigh. "I'm just worried is all. My dad is sick, and we have this huge order of sweet rolls that's due later this afternoon for some baron and I already have Jade down at the bakery to help but we can't do it alone and I'm freaking _out_." John says this all in one breath, but you manage to follow it this time.

Not that your understanding really changes anything. You still can't cook. Surprisingly, you actually have been taking cooking lessons with Nepeta. Her lessons are more on the topic of meats and vegetables, though. You have no idea how you would even approach making sweet rolls.

You're about to tell him as much, but Dave cuts in before you can. "Don't worry, John." He says, apparently oblivious to the sinking feeling in your stomach at those words. "Me and Karkat can definitely help out." He puts an arm around your shoulders, tugging you against him. The warmth of his chest is a little distracting, but you really don't have time for this.

"Actually-" You try, only to be cut off.

"You will?" John's face lights up, and as much as you hate to admit it, it's endearing as all Hell. You can see why Dave would be interested - not that you're going to encourage him. It's not going to go anywhere, and you think that he knows it. It's why he clings to the idea so desperately. Moving on is harder than lying to yourself. You wonder how long it took for Dave to convince himself that he has even the tiniest chance with John.

Dave nods, smiling right back. "Yeah, absolutely. I mean- how hard can it be?" You want to tell him that it's very fucking hard because, oh right, _neither of you can actually cook_ , but your input is neither needed nor desired apparently.

You weren't even sure that someone could smile that wide, but John defies all laws of physics, relief clear on his face as he grabs Dave by the wrist. "Great! Let's head over! And don't worry - I'll show you guys what you'll need to be doing. I'm not just going to shove you in there blind."

He tugs Dave out the door, and since the blond has transferred his hand to your wrist, that means that you go with them. To your extreme displeasure.

But, fine, whatever. You're resigned to this. You can waste a few crummy hours of one crummy day of your crummy life to help out a friend. You don't know why you're so bitter about this. Being volunteered for something isn't your favorite thing, but that's not why you're upset. You can't put your finger on whatever it is _exactly_ , but you have an inkling that it has something to do with Dave. Everything kind of does recently, and it's driving you crazy trying to figure out _why_ he's all you seem to think about. You can ponder it later, you suppose. You always do.

Eventually, you arrive at John's bakery. The only upside to the trip was that it was quiet and since it's approaching summer, it was actually pretty nice outside. Warm, with a gentle breeze. You like it.

Jade is waiting outside when you get there, anxiously tugging at her apron. At least there's two people here who know what they're doing. John mentioned that she used to work here, right? Before her grandpa died and she took over the orphanage. So at least this shouldn't be a total disaster.

"Thank God you guys could make it." Jade says, relieved as she walks up to meet you. She addresses you and Dave both, but her gaze is only on him. For fucks sake, the sexual tension that these three can work up just on their own is _pliable_. How in the Hell are you going to get through hours of this in a small, confined space? One thing is certain. If you can do this, you can do anything.

You can see that it makes him a tad uncomfortable to do it, but Dave hugs Jade in greeting anyway. He keeps it brief, pulling back and holding her at arm's length. "Of course." He smiles. "Anything to help out with the bakery. I work here too, you know. Just not… with the actual food." His sure expression crumbles, worry lining his features.

No. Absolutely not. Dave is _not_ allowed to have second thoughts after he signed you up for this in the first place. You scowl, elbowing him in the side. "Oh, don't be so dramatic, Dave." You roll your eyes. "It's _bread_ , not a battlefield. Just follow the instructions, and you shouldn't set the place on fire. Think you can do that?"

You're admittedly not the greatest at pep talks, but that seems to do the trick. Dave nods, smiling a little. "Yeah, sure. Easy enough." He murmurs. You can tell that he's not entirely sold, but at least he won't be backing out any time soon. You're not going to tolerate that.

John nods his agreement. "Yeah, Karkat's right. It's ready not that hard. I'm going to be showing you how to do it, and it's just one step of the process for each of us. Like an assembly line? It's super simple - I promise." He smiles, and it annoys you that that small gesture on his part does more than your great pep talk did. Dave just doesn't know what's good for him.

All pep talks aside though, John leads you inside. You've actually never been inside of the bakery, and you can see why they have the stand outside. It's not set up like a typical shop, where the goods are displayed out front and in the back rooms is where they story things or, in the case of a bakery, cook them. John's shop is actually all cooking area. There are wooden counters stained with flour in every direction, four impressive brick fires against the wall for cooking, and a door towards the end of the room that you think leads to a supply room. It looks like a tornado came through and John only bothered to wipe down one of the counters. That's the one where you assume you're going to be cooking, as all the ingredients are set up there nicely and orderly.

"Okay guys, this is how it's going to work." John positions you in front of the ingredients, Dave next to you, and Jade by the stove like the line he promised. "Karkat, you make the dough, Dave, you knead it and make the roll shape, Jade cooks, and I offer assistance and decorate them when they're done." He points to each person in turn as he gives the instructions, putting his hands on his hips once finished. "Any questions?"

You look at what you've been given to work with. On the counter in front of you is salt, a jug of milk, a bag of flour, butter, more eggs than you care to count, a dark liquid you can't place, sugar, a bowl, and a lot of different spoons. "Yeah, I have a question." You say. "What the fuck am I supposed to do with all of this bullshit?"

John laughs, and you think that maybe he doesn't understand that you're serious. "Here- I'll show you." He comes to stand next to you, pulling the bowl closer and setting it in front of you. "First, add the butter." It takes you a moment to realize that he wants _you_ to do it. So you do, grabbing the container of butter. It's soft, so it comes out easily, and you add until he tells you to stop. You do your best to memorize how much he tells you to put in, so that you'll know for later. "Then, the sugar, and just beat them until they're fluffy. Okay?" You nod, doing the same with the sugar - pouring until John tells you to stop. You grab one of the wooden spoons, beginning to stir. It soon becomes clear that there's apparently a right and a wrong way to stir, and you are doing it wrong. You let John tilt the angle of the bowl, and you speed up on his command until he's satisfied with how you're "beating" the mixture. You decide that cooking with vegetables is more fun.

"Okay, that looks good." John says after a minute, nodding. You've "beaten" the butter and sugar pretty well by this point. Well, you think so. It's all the same color, so you must be doing something right. "Now, just add five eggs." He's nice enough to crack the first one for you, letting you do the last four. You like cracking eggs. Surprisingly, you're not horrible at it and it goes smoothly. After that, John has you add milk, and you're told to "beat" that as well. You learn that the dark liquid that you couldn't name before is vanilla, and you add that in next to flour, what John calls "yeast," and just a little salt. With this, you are allowed to stir normally, albeit gently, until it's all just one solid color and none of the ingredients are identifiable. It actually leaves you feeling kind of proud when all is said and done.

"Good job, Karkat." John beams at you, putting a hand around your shoulders and pulling you into a brief side hug. "Now, Dave, it's your turn. You have to knead to dough. Here, let me show you."

He goes over to stand next to Dave, smearing some flour onto the counter before he takes the dough and turns it out onto the counter in a loose, sticky ball. "You don't know how to knead, do you?" Dave shakes his head, and John smiles. "Thought not. It's fine. I'll just have to be a little more specific." What he does next surprises you. John walks up behind Dave, presses their bodies together, rests his chin on Dave's shoulder, and gently takes his hands. "Okay, first, you're going to want to gather the dough." He leads Dave's hands, guiding him into pushing the dough into a neater little pile. John drops his hands, smiling when Dave seems to get the motions of it pretty quickly.

The kneading lesson passes like that for fifteen incredibly-painful-to-watch minutes. They "punch" it, fold it, knead it, until the lumps smooth out and the dough is almost shiny. John tells Dave to stop once the dough holds a round shape like it is, smiling wide. "Great job, Dave!" He claps his friend on the shoulder, pulling back. "Now it just has to rise for a while." He pushes the lump of dough to the side, moving on to Jade.

Dave visibly relaxes, sagging against the counter. You just shake your head. That's probably the most physical contact he's had with John since- well, ever. It's sad and pathetic and makes your stomach tighten with that emotion you keep trying to ignore. You actually feel pretty bad for Dave. Jade doesn't seem to notice the way that little lesson affected the blond, busy going over with John how to man the fire and keep it's temperature consistent and know when to take the bread out and blah blah blah whatever whatever, who cares? The point is how damn dense she is. Half way through John's lesson you were beginning to wonder if Dave was going to get a hard on, but she was busy watching their hands as if bread kneading is just _the most fascinating shit she's ever seen in her whole damn life._

You give up on their entire family line. It ends with these two. They probably don't even know how sex works, and you wouldn't be surprised.

"Karkat." John says, getting your attention after what appears to be several attempts. "You should start making more dough. Dave's going to have to knead it, and it takes a while to rise, and we have limited time."

You nod, frowning in concentration as you struggle to remember what John taught you about dough-making. Butter and sugar… eggs and milk… vanilla, flour, yeast, and salt. It's easier than you expected it to be. Maybe you're not such a terrible cook after all.

* * *

Three hours later, and you officially decide that everything is terrible. Officially. You've signed all the correct papers, sealed that shit in your own blood, and it's official. Everything is terrible.

John is outside the shop, helping his customer load all 64 sweet rolls into his carriage. Sweet rolls that you hate being involved with.

The mixing part was pretty easy, but once you finished with that, you helped Dave knead the last of it. While you waited for the dough to rise, you and Dave helped Jade with the fire, and you were sent out to get some firewood when she ran out. You think that they wanted you to actually go out and chop down a tree, but there was no fucking way that you were going to go all the way out of town to get wood for one fire. So, you just went to one of the nearby shops and bought some, which worked just as well. After the dough rose, John taught you and Dave how to make it into the shapes of the roll for cooking. By which you mean, he stood behind Dave and gave him another boner while you tried to pay attention to what his hands were doing. All in all, probably not your best work. At least the frosting part went well- John decorated them all beautifully with icing and little fruits. You hope that it makes up for the otherwise lackluster presentation.

Now, you're trying very hard not to glare at the reason why everything is terrible. Jade and Dave are standing together, talking, and she keeps trying to hint at going on a date or kissing or doing anything even _remotely_ romantic, and Dave keeps changing the subject. It's embarrassing for both of them. You know that Jade is better than this, and you know that Dave isn't this big of a tool. You wonder how long she's been crushing on him to be so willing to come on as strongly as she is now. It makes you feel incredibly bad for the both of them. That emotion twisting in your stomach can just fuck off, because there's nothing to be jealous about going on here. Just a Hell of a lot of pity.

"Dave." You speak up suddenly. This earns you the attention of both of them, and you expect Jade to be bothered, but her look of relief mirrors Dave's. "I need to talk to you. Alone."

He nods, seeming eager to comply as he hurries over to you. "Sure. What is it?"

You really aren't looking forward to this, but the uncomfortable conversation had to happen at some point, so you suck it up. You take Dave by the wrist and lead him into the storage room. The door is pretty thick, so you're not worried about Jade overhearing. There's a pause where neither of you is sure what to say, and you take a deep breath.

"Are you attracted to guys?" You blurt out before you can convince yourself otherwise.

Dave stares for a moment - like he doesn't understand the question - and then his expression crumbles. "I don't know." He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "What? Was I being obvious?"

You raise an eyebrow. "You're joking, right?" He pretty much caresses John with his eyes wherever he goes. For fucks sake, Dave wears _shades_ and you can tell. It's in his body language and his expression and how smitten he gets. It's written all over him, and it's honestly incredibly sad that John hasn't picked up on it at least a little.

"Fuck." Dave laughs dryly, no humor in his tone at all. "God, I thought that I was getting so much better at hiding it. Being into guys isn't exactly accepted, is it?"

You shake your head, and the conversation lapses into silence. You feel bad for Dave - really, you do. You can't choose who you're attracted to, and he was just dealt a bad hand.

"But the thing is…" Dave continues, and you look over at him. "I'm not even entirely… sure that I like guys." He admits. "I mean, there's John, obviously. I'm guessing that's how you figured it out?" You nod for confirmation, and Dave hums in thought. "Yeah, but… other than him… I just don't know. To be honest, I don't… think that it's even a question for him? John is pretty solely into girls, but I'm not sure about my interests. If that makes sense."

Now's the perfect opportunity. Perfect for you to finally spit it out. You know it is, but you're still struggling with it. Fuck. Why is it so hard for you? "Can I suggest something?" You say through clenched teeth. Dave tilts his head towards you, which you take as a cue to continue. "Why not ask Jade on a date?" God, you want to throw up. "She seems to really like you, and it might help you figure out your whole thing about… what gender you like." Idiot. You're an idiot. What the fuck are you doing? Why are you trying to set Dave up with someone that he's clearly not into? You are the shittiest friend in existence.

Dave hesitates, but you can see him considering it. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to try…" He agrees slowly, looking skeptical. "But can you do two things for me in return? Just small favors - I promise."

You're nodding before he can even finish. Yes. Yes, _anything_ to get this conversation over with. You just want to go home and pound your head into a wall for a few hours.

"First," He holds up one finger, "I want you to come with. Like a double date. Just bring Nepeta as friends or something. Does that work?" Dave asks.

You almost refuse him outright, but then you stop to think about your options. Chances are slim, but getting Dave over John and possibly making Jade happy in the process sounds pretty damn sweet. And it's not like you hate Nepeta. She's actually pretty interesting, and you share a lot of common interests, but recently she's… well, long story short, you think that she's in love with you, which just adds yet another level of complexity to this shitshow. Regardless, you nod. "Sure." You agree. Simple enough.

"Okay. Great." Dave nods, taking a deep breath. He suddenly seems nervous, and you have no idea why. "And second, promise not to punch me."

You go to ask what he means, only to find that the words won't come. You're frozen, unable to react as Dave cups the back of your head and pulls you a little closer to make the kiss easier on himself.

By the time you process that _holy fucking shit Dave is fucking kissing you and it feel so damn right and God do you want more you want to press closer and never let go_ he's already pulled away. "Thanks for that, Karkat." He says, awkwardly patting your shoulder as he clears his throat. "I, uh, guess that I like guys, then. I appreciate you letting me test that, but don't worry - it's just a friend kiss. Doesn't mean anything, so don't worry about that. Now, I guess I can go see about asking Jade out… Hopefully, girls turn out to be just as good."

You're still staring blankly ahead when Dave brushes past you and leaves the room. To talk to Jade, you can only assume. Your lips tingle pleasantly from the kiss, and slowly, you reach up and brush your fingers over them. It sends a shiver down your spine, and you quickly drop your hand.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck _fuck_.

This is _not_ part of the plan.

You weren't supposed to make connections - you weren't supposed to fall in love with Dave.

You need to get out of this town.

* * *

You plan on getting into that tunnel today. It's only been a day since Dave kissed you, but it's all you can think about. His hand in your hair, his chapped lips pressed against yours so sweetly, how _right_ it all felt- You hate it. And you hate him for kissing you, making you fall for him, and then asking out Jade despite his crush on John. No one is winning in this situation. This whole thing is fucking ridiculous, and you can only blame yourself.

That doesn't mean that you still aren't mad at Dave, though.

You have a long, narrow piece of metal tucked under your robes. You'd recently been promoted, placing you permanently near the perimeter. The only downside is that you don't see Kanaya as often during work, but that's fine. Sometimes you hang out with her after work at her house. It wasn't very often because you still preferred to be around Dave, but you think that might change. You have no desire to be around Dave right now. You know that it will hurt, and you aren't that big of a masochist.

Regardless, you decide that today you're finally going to see where the tunnel leads and if it takes you anywhere of strategic advantage. You are officially sick of this town and it's inhabitants.

Like the last time, you wait for a moment between guards and go for it. You duck away into the forest, and are surprised to find that you actually recognize where you are. This time, you manage to avoid falling. You find the tunnel after just a minute, your heart pounding with anxiety. You don't have long. You need to make this quick.

You find the little hatch and grab the torch and flint that you left behind last time. You light it, disappearing down the narrow shaft with an urgency. When you reach the wooden barrier, you set your torch down, and take the metal scrap out of your robes. You're lucky that it's rotting, otherwise this would have taken an hour to do. The wood falls away with surprising ease, though your hands are red and blistered by the time you're finished prying at it. You ignore the faint stinging. There's a pile of wood at your feet, and a tunnel that needs exploring. There's no time for pain.

You put one hand on the wall, the other holding your torch as you made your way deeper into the tunnel. You're walking faster than you probably should be, but the floor isn't too rough. It's eerily silent in the tunnel, and all you can hear is your breathing, and the crackling of your fire. It makes you feel exposed- quite the contrast to how the walls seem to be moving in on you. You swear that the tunnel was wider when you first entered it.

You don't know how much time passes before you reach an incline. At first, you hardly even notice it, but then the floor gets steeper, and yeah, it's definitely going up. The dirt gives way to stone, surprising you, but you keep going. It's a good sign. You're getting close to something important- you can tell.

The temperature cools the further up you climb, the stone walls rough and chilled under your touch. You have no idea where you wandered in to, but it comes with lots of twists and turns. The incline changes directions every four feet or so, until you might as well just be climbing stairs. Up and up and up. You don't know where you're going, so it catches you off guard when the stairs stop. You find yourself in a short hallway, and you quickly put out your torch. The end of the hall engulfed in darkness now, but you silently make your way over to it, one hand on the wall to steady yourself and your breath held tight in your throat.

You put your hand on the object blocking out the sunlight, and are surprised to find that it's… wood? You frown, rapping on it with your knuckles. The sound reverberates, and your frown deepens. It's definitely a door. You trace its edges, and are pleasantly surprised to find that it has a doorknob. You turn it, and it squeaks a little, but the door opens easily.

You don't bother with opening it completely just yet. You can't remember how to breath as it is- much less open all the way. There's still no light, and you're confused about that for a second before you reach through the little crack in the door and feel around. There's a curtain covering it from sight, and you slowly push the edge of it out of the way so you can see into the hallway. You've just stumbled upon what appears to be a forgotten escape route, but you aren't excited about that. It's what lies on the other side that excites you.

And it makes your eyes widen.

You've spent enough time staring at that crinkled up map to recognize the hallway that all of the royal bedrooms attach to. You can't see the king and queen's room, but if you're remembering the layout correctly, then…

You swallow hard. The prince's bedroom is directly across from you. Less then twenty feet separates you and the man you need to kill.

Stumbling back, your hand flies to your hip on impulse. Your sickle isn't there, obviously. You don't bring it into work, and you hadn't been expecting this path to lead somewhere actually useful. You quickly shut the door and turn your back to the exit, picking up your torch and relighting it. You'll need to come back another time. After Dave's double-date thing. You did promise after all, and you're getting out of town as soon as the deed is done.

You take a deep breath, and spare one last glance at the end of the tunnel before you just shake your head and make your way back down the path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this chapter being rather short. Up next you get the second intermission (also kinda short), but I'm thinking of only waiting a week to upload that so that you guys don't have to wait another month for a real chapter, haha.


	12. Act 1 Intermission 2: I'm So Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So you gotta fire up, you gotta let go.  
> You'll never be loved 'til you've made your own.  
> You gotta face up, you gotta get yours.  
> You never know the top 'til you get too low.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I guess I did end up doing the intermission earlier than I would normally update. Enjoy some actual plot, because there's going to be a lot of that coming up.

You don't see your mom often.

See, you never knew your dad. You think that your mom never married and just had a man in the bedroom. You know that she wanted an heiress, not a husband. And you really respect your mom for that. The only downside is that, as a result, she has to do everything herself. You don't exactly know what "everything" is (your mom says that she'll tell you in due time), but you do know that it's a lot. In a week, you maybe get about three hours with you mom, provided that she's home. If she's traveling, then even less.

Sometimes it bothers you. But you find ways to stay positive. Eridan keeps you company, and when he's busy learning about "everything" from his dad, then you talk to the castle staff. It used to unnerve them when you were little and would come wandering into the kitchen looking for your mommy, but they must have taken pity on you, because you're practically family now. Isolation had the effect of sympathy. You love everyone, or, you try to. Sometimes it's hard, but you have yet to meet anyone with no good qualities. Deep down, people want to be loved, and you like to think that you do a pretty good job of helping with that.

"Lady Peixes?" A male voice calls from your doorway. You look up upon prompting, setting down your quill. You keep a small journal that you fill with thoughts you have throughout the day. You were working out how much money you can take from the vaults and give to the poor people of the town without your mom noticing, but you can finish it later.

You smile sweetly at the nervous servant boy. His name is Adam, you think. Mom likes to change the staff often when she actually has the time too, which is luckily pretty rare. Adam is new, and still anxious around you. You had finally gotten him to stop knocking when your doors are open, which they are right now. He still won't cross the threshold without your insisted permission, or call you by your first name, but it's a start. He has only been here a week, after all. "You can just call me Feferi." You say gently. Adam turns red in embarrassment, about to apologize, but you continue before he can. You don't want him to think that he did anything wrong. It's not like the name thing is a huge deal - you just want your staff to be comfortable around you. "What is it?" He wouldn't interrupt you for no reason.

"O-Oh, right." His blush darkens. "Um, Queen Me- your mo- er, Her Imperious Condescension requests your presence immediately." Adam says finally with a small, defeated sigh.

You frown. That title is new to you. Your mom had been talking about getting a new title, but you thought that her name worked just fine. Everyone knows Meenah Peixes, lovely despite her age, wealthy beyond imagination, and ruthless to her last breath. But you guess that "The Condesce" is a lot shorter than all of that. You like the name. It suits her. You make a mental note to tell her that.

You close your ink well and tuck your journal back into your desk, rising to your feet. It took weeks of training to get that one simple action to look effortless. Hoop skirts are absolutely awful, no matter how exquisite. "Thank you, Adam." You tell him with a sincere smile, putting a hand on his shoulder. You almost laugh at the shade of red that he turns, but that really isn't very nice. So, you wait a moment, and then take your hand away and head towards the throne room.

It always struck you as odd that your mom needed to include a throne room when she had this new castle built a few years ago. You're nobles (the official title is a marquess) - not royalty. You hadn't pointed that out, though. You had the feeling that she wouldn't appreciate it.

In your pocket, you have the necklace that you bought for your mom when you were out with Eridan - the one that Karkat had given you the idea for. Out of everything you bought, it's the only thing that you kept. You had been meaning to give it to her, but there was never a good time. Now seems like the moment you've been waiting for, but you really don't know how you're going to approach the subject. You'll just have to figure it out when you get there!

When you reach the impressive golden doors, you knock politely, pushing it open without waiting for a reply. Your mom asked for you, so there's really no need for her permission. It's kind of your house too, after all.

Your mom is standing on the other side of the room, her back to you and her hands clasped behind her back professionally. She's staring out her window - a large panel of glass that takes up the entire wall behind her throne - at nothing in particular. You know that she's just doing it for dramatic effect, which is always means that something great is about to happen. You smile, containing your excitement just barely as you step into the room and hurry over.

You stop when you're just a step behind her and to the right, eyes trained on the view outside as she is. It's a fantastic view - you do have to admit it. It's facing the opposite direction of the town, so there is no buildings to ruin it. Just trees and mountain peaks in the distance, and the occasional sparkle of a small river or lake if you stare for long enough. You can see why your mom likes it.

"Feferi, ya know that I think we deserve better than this." She speaks finally, gesturing at the room around her. You nod. It's kind of hard not to notice. "We deserve the world, you and I. Your children. Their children." Your mom sighs. "Darling, can you keep a secret?"

Again, you nod, smiling enthusiastically. Your mom's secrets are always so exciting. Much more exciting than the studies you have to do on being a lady. Those are so achingly dull, no matter how important you know they are. "Yes, of course, mother!" You reply, beaming.

The corner of her mouth quirks into a smile, and your mom pats your shoulder affectionately. "That's m'girl." She almost sounds proud, and you swell with happiness. "Now, c'mere. I have somethin' important ta tell ya."

She crosses the room with strong strides, her steps powerful while still managing to look effortless. Your mom is your envy. You aspire to be as good at this as she is someday.

You can't help but get excited as she stops in front of the map pinned to the wall. It's huge- easily twice your height and dominating the stone wall. It's held in place with thin, iron spikes, hammered into the wall to keep the needlework in place. Your mom tells you that it took a year to be finished, but you aren't sure if she's over exaggerating or not. She's never gone into more detail than that before, and you're eager to hear what she's going to tell you.

It's a map of the continent, Skaia, but it's not like any that you've ever seen before. Usually, the maps you see are paper, for one. They have marks for population, the capital, the nation's wealth, and various details such as that. But this one is completely blank, save the nation borders and their names. There's no compass rose, or the names of the seas or rivers or lakes. It's just the nations, three out of the eight colored an obvious shade of fuchsia instead of the green or brown that you're accustomed to.

You don't have to ask your mom to start talking. "My gran'ma made this." She sighs, reaching over and running her hand down the tapestry fondly. "She was offered the finest paper in Skaia ta do it on, but instead she chose wool. Cheap, but it did what she wanted it ta do. She had it made into this tapestry right 'er, and the first time she conquered a country, she sat down by the fire, and sewed pink over top 'o the green."

A shiver runs down your spine, and you're suddenly a lot less eager to hear about this map than you were before. Conquering? When has your family ever been involved in that? But you know better than to ask. You keep your mouth shut, and listen.

"Gran'ma conquered the nation where she was born, Viel. My mom conquered Cortanous, and left Prospit to me, while she relaxed in her illness." Your mom pauses, bowing her head, and you do the same, offering a moment of silence for the grandmother you never knew. They were close, you know that much. You think that she would appreciate the respect. "Anyway," she sighs, and continues, "the original plan with easy. Bribe, blackmail, murder, if necessary, to get to the top. I tried to do the same with Prospit, but…" She shakes her head, wiping the brief but potent sorrow off of her face and replacing it with a malicious grin. "I don' think that matters, eh?" Normally, your mother giving you a hug would be a reason to jump for joy, but you're too numb to react much when she pulls you against her and gives a little squeeze. "I'll teach you about the rebellion when you're ready. The important thing is, Prospit is mine. _Ours_. I've decided that it's time, Fef. It's jus' a matter a' time before Derse is ours, too. I've cut out the middleman, y'know. That's why 'M always so busy, and I'm sorry fo' that. I had the rules of Prospit, Viel, and Cortanous all killed. Y'know what that means, Fef? It means that I'm queen in three countries." Her grin is wide and delighted, rapacious in a way that you've never seen before. "Which makes you princess. Heir to th' throne. All you gotta do to stay there is one itty-bitty favor for mommy…"

Panic is gripping the soles of your shoes, keeping you rooted in place and unable to reply. Do something? All you want to do is run. This… this is horrid. Your mother has never been terribly empathetic, but you never thought that she was capable of something on this scale. Murder? Red would have been a much more well-suited color to cover this map with. You feel her hand on your shoulder as she kneels down just a little to be at your height, but all you can think of is how many people she must have killed, giving no more thought than a flick of her wrist. As if… it just doesn't matter to her. As if human life doesn't _matter_.

Slowly, you lift your head to look up at her.

"Feferi," Your mom begins, a quiet, serious undertone to her words, "I've been waiting a long time to get my hands on the Derse rulers. They're paranoid - careful. And I've been having too much fun ta let 'em die easily." She chuckles, and you have to fight away a grimace. "I've been savin' it for a special occasion. And, Fef, I want you to be the one to do it. I want you to run 'em through with a sword, decapitate 'em, hang em' - anything that you see fit. It's my gift to you." Her smile takes up at least half of her face, a predatory gleam to them. Where the hard edges of her face always this threatening? Was it always this cold in here? "What do you say, Fef?"

The word "no" is on the tip of your tongue. But you just barely choke it down. You can't refuse her. You know that gleam in your mother's eyes. "No" isn't an acceptable answer, and she always gets what she wants. One way or the other. Maybe this is her way of "bonding" with you. She tried something like this once- when you were little. She took you to the dungeons, trying to give you a taste for torture. Any one of those methods she used would break you. It would be easy - you don't even have to guess at that.

Your hand reaches down, pushing apart the folds of your skirt to reach into the little hidden pocket you sewed in yourself. Your fingers brush up against the cold metal of the necklace you bought her, and you yank your hand back, as if burned. Your mother doesn't react. She just waits - the intensity in her gaze never faltering. You can't look away. That look draws the answer she wants right out of you. The other downside, it seems, to being raised mostly by the staff, is that you don't know how to refuse.

Your name is Feferi Peixes, and you've always seen the good in people. However, you find it incredibly difficult to think up any redeeming qualities for yourself as you force a smile, and obediently reply, "Yes, mother."

Somehow - impossibly - her grin widens, and she ruffles your hair. You twist your gown in your hands, resisting the urge to reach up and fix it. "Welcome to the family business, kiddo."

Well, at least now you know what "everything" is.


	13. Kill The Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You reside in grand disguises,  
> just to get, get away from it all.  
> Falsify the life you're hiding.  
> Just to get, get away from it all.

You regret promising Dave that you would do this for him.

You want to go home and take a nap to ward off this building headache. You do not want to be standing outside the theater with Nepeta, waiting for Jade and Dave to get their slow asses here already. Standing next to Nepeta on it's own isn't all that bad, but the fact that this is technically a "date" is not helping matters. On top of how little sleep you got last night due to anxiety, how long you've been standing here unhappily, and the sheer number of conversation attempts you've had to shoot down, you can safely say that you aren't happy right now.

Nepeta (bless her), has somehow not lost her patience with you yet. You can tell that she knows you're in some sort of funk, and that her friendly efforts are purely for your sake. As much as you appreciate it though, she eventually just accepts that you aren't in the mood for conversation and quiets down.

You can't help but be relieved.

The show is supposed to start soon. Or, at least, you think so. It's hard to tell, but the crowd outside of the building is thinning, no doubt because all the other people have more common sense than you and have gone inside to take their seats.

You hate double dates. It's really easy to hate things. You might as well just write a list of things that you _don't_ hate, because that list would be so much easier.

So far, Dave is the only thing on that list.

Probably because you spent about two seconds putting thought into it, but still. The fact that Dave is the first thing to pop into your mind makes you incredibly uneasy. Sometimes, you read romance novels in your rare free time. They've described love like this a few times, but you never expected just how much it would-

"Hey, guys!" Jade calls out, waving as she walks over to you and Nepeta with a smile on her face. Your gaze sticks far too long on the way her arm is looped through Dave's, holding him close. He doesn't look uncomfortable, which you convince yourself is a good sign despite the nagging feeling in your gut that's insisting that _you_ should be the one that close to him. Love sure is a pain, but… Actually, there is no but. Love is just a pain- it's flat out brutal. You want to stop feeling it. Too bad you apparently have no say in how this happens.

Nepeta waves back, beaming. "Hi!" She shouts, running up to pull both of them in a huge at the same time. None of them try to pull you into the group hug, and you're grateful. Physical contact with Dave - or, worse, being so close to him and _not_ making any contact - is the exact opposite of what you need right now.

"We should probably head inside." You say once they separate, pointing at the theater door. You're talking to all three of them, but your gaze is firmly stuck to Dave, despite your weak efforts to look away. "I'm pretty sure that all of the good seats are taken by now, but there's no reason why we can't still find _some way_ to see the stage." All of this is said as dryly as possible. Their little moment was "touching" but you do have more important things to be doing. Like surviving today's outing and moving on from this chapter of your life.

They don't appear to notice your tone, nodding in agreement at your words and shuffling inside. You see Dave give you a concerned look, which you coldly ignore. You don't want his worry or his pity. You're not entirely sure what you want, but you do know that him looking at you like a fragile child isn't it.

You step into the theater, and immediately notice that something is off. The place is clearly very lavish, but you feel like they're… overdoing it for some reason. There's a red carpet laid out, very carefully adorned with flower petals, bouquets lining the way and leading up to the balcony. The reserved section, too. It's like they took anything even remotely shinny and set it out on display. You're not sure what they're preparing for. Sure, it's a highly praised play, but you don't think that all of this is necessary.

"Um, hey." Dave calls out to one of the people double-checking the flowers, a frown on his face. They look up at the sound of his voice, clearly annoyed with the interruption, but he gives Dave his attention anyway. "What's with the lavish decorations?" He asks. "Is there an important event today, or…?"

The man blinks - absolutely blown away that anyone could _not_ know about what's going on today. "Of course, sir." He says very seriously. "It's the king and queen, sir. They're coming down from the palace to see the play and we have to make them feel at home."

You want to correct him (the castle is rather plain from what you can tell), but before you can, he's already bustled off to do some other pointless little thing, you assume. Jade and Nepeta are both smiling wide, undoubtedly beside themselves with the possibility of meeting royalty, and Dave-

Dave has gone a sickly pale color, tensed as the life practically seeps out of him. You frown, and are about to ask what's wrong when he speaks first. "Alright, great." He says in a rush, taking Jade by the forearm and leading her into the theater. You and Nepeta follow behind automatically. "The king and queen will be here, so we should stay out of their way. We're clearly not dressed to meet royalty. We'd just be bothering them on one of their rare days out, so let's just find our seats and stay there until they leave." Dave is rambling now, slowly getting quieter until he's completely switched to mumbling to himself.

"Alright, well…" Jade begins slowly, opening the door to the lobby once more, "you can stay here if you want, Dave. I'm going to go see what a queen looks like. Nepeta." The shorter girl looks over at the sound of her name. "You want to come with?"

Neither of them spare another glance at you and Dave, happily ducking out of the room. You think that you hear the sound of a carriage approaching before the door closes, but you can't be sure. Around you, the distinct chatter of overlapping conversations buzz through the theater, making it hard to pick out any one tangent. But the chances of anyone in the room saying anything even mildly interesting is slim (present company excluded, of course), so you don't really mind.

Dave has taken a seat directly under the large balcony, folding in on himself and trying to appear smaller. Not as many people are sitting around here because of the shadow it creates, and as such, there are plenty of seats available. You slide into the one next to Dave, hesitating before you speak up. "What was that about?" You ask bluntly. No sense in beating around the bush.

You don't get a reply for a moment, and you're about to tell Dave that he doesn't _have_ to talk if he doesn't want to, but then he sighs, straightening up and sitting in his chair properly. "Karkat, can you keep a secret?" He sounds distressed, and you automatically nod as a response. "I'm…" He trails off, trying to find the right words. You wait patiently. People need to think sometimes, and you can respect that. "Okay, so, remember when we first met and I mentioned a family that I left?" You nod again. Yeah. Somehow, you remember that conversation perfectly, even almost three years later. "Well, the thing is, I actually come from a family of nobles. My dad is a duke, to be exact." He confesses, biting his lip. "I couldn't take that life anymore, Karkat. It's probably stupid to throw all of that away, but I wanted to be happy, and I have a sister anyway. They married her off, so it's not like they're not getting any heirs. But I know the king and queen. They know _me_. If they see me, they'll- they'll drag me back themselves and lock me up and throw away the key." Dave turns to you, his eyes noticeably wide even behind his shades, and panic clear in his voice. "Karkat, _please_." The desperation in his words makes your throat tight. "I just _can't_ go back to that. You can't let them see me. _Please_."

It's not even a question for you. This is an opportunity. You just have to turn Dave into the king and queen, and that's one-half of your problem completely out of the picture. You're not going to go down that route though, and it makes you hate yourself all the more. You don't have it in you to let Dave go like that. You can leave, sure, but him? He has a life here. A job, a home, a… girlfriend. You can't force him away from all of that. You aren't a cruel person.

You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut tight, and nod. "Yeah. Of course I'll help you out." You say reassuringly.

The smile Dave gives you makes it all worth it, and your self-hate wilts under his beaming expression. He wraps you in a hug, pulling you tight against him. You blank for a moment, completely forgetting how to function as a person, and slowly reach up to hug him back.

It's disgustingly perfect.

You still can't bring yourself to hate it. Or him, unfortunately.

Dave pulls back a few seconds later (too soon, in your opinion), just in time for Jade and Nepeta to come back in. "Did you see what you wanted to see?" You ask, Dave looking away and pointedly ignoring the conversation.

Nepeta shakes her head, taking the seat next to you, and Jade grimaces, squeezing by you and Dave both to sit on the end. "No." Your 'date' sighs, crossing her arms with a huff. "They didn't let us. Jade put up a good fight, but they insisted." She explains. Dave relaxes a little when he hears that, and you reach between your seats to find his hand. You give a small, reassuring squeeze, and though he looks surprised, he doesn't seem upset. He returns the gesture, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

You really need to stop fucking yourself over like this.

The curtains that are letting light into the room drop, and the audience is cast into darkness. However, the stage remains easily viewable, the torch light sending flickering shadows across the room. You have no idea what play you're seeing. You only showed up here at the time that Dave told you to. All you know is, it's received pretty high praise. You didn't understand how Dave got tickets at first, but he already answered that, didn't he? It was obvious, in retrospect. How did you miss it?

In the end, the play ceases to capture your attention. Probably because, under the cover of darkness, Jade takes the opportunity to pull Dave into a kiss. And another one. And another. And etcetera, etcetera, until you aren't sure how you haven't broken your arm rest with how hard you're gripping it. You try to tell yourself that Dave doesn't like it, but he must, otherwise he wouldn't keep letting her kiss him. He'd push her away or find an excuse to stop, but what he does instead is cup the back of her head and encourage her to do it again.

Nepeta notices not long after you do, but rather than focus on Jade and Dave, her attention is on you. You can see the pieces click in her mind, and you feel a stab of guilt at the look on her face. It's pretty clear to see that you're jealous. You hate that emotion, but you can't seem to make it leave. She probably thinks that you would rather be kissing Jade, but she doesn't say anything. Instead, Nepeta takes your hand, letting you grip her as tightly as you want. You appreciate it immensely - more than you'll probably ever tell her. You are so, so glad that you brought Nepeta with you. You're so glad that she's your friend, and that she can be a bigger person than you when it comes to dealing with these types of emotions. You hope that one day, she does find someone who can return her affections. Beyond your obvious lack of interest in the female gender, you think that she deserves better than you can give. She really, really does.

The first act is over before you know it, and it's kind of jarring to realize that the set is cleared and the actors have gone off stage and the lights have been raised without you even noticing.

Climbing to her feet, Jade stretches her arms above her head, looking down at the three of you with a smile. You understand why she would be feeling good. You would feel good too if you got to shove your tongue down Dave's throat. You immediately push that thought from your mind. No. Absolutely not. Jade isn't antagonizing you on purpose. She doesn't deserve your animosity, and you aren't going to allow yourself to think less of her over something like this. You're going to be gone by tomorrow morning anyway, so what do you care?

You have a weapon stored in one of the bushes at the palace, so when you get in, all you have to do is get your weapon, use the tunnel to get up to the prince's bedroom, stab him, and be on your merry way. You just need to report your success to your boss, and then talk to her about retiring once you have the money. You're kind of young to be retiring, but you're also kind of young to be killing people for a living, so you think it balances out evenly.

"So, you guys wanna step outside?" Jade asks. "We have some time before the second act."

You don't want to go outside, and neither does Dave. Jade and Nepeta do though, so the four of you compromise and go outside. You're not happy about it, but it's not really a huge deal, you suppose. Just one of those tiny, inconsequential things that you're going to bitch about just to have something to bitch about.

You keep wondering if the king and queen are even here. You haven't seen them, or heard them. The theater could just be lying about it, you suppose. Or they were just misinformed. Either way, there's a distinct lack of the royal family at the theater, and it rubs you the wrong way. Something about this situation is just… off to you, but you don't know exactly what is so off-putting about it.

Going outside is as completely pointless as you expected. All it offers is a different setting to talk about the play in. You could have talked about the same thing inside the building, but no. Apparently, your little group is too good to have a roof over your heads. Everything is terrible and you want everyone to know it. Why are you so upset, some curious onlookers may ponder as you silently fume? Because you're officially done being sad about Jade and Dave kissing. You've stopped being sad, and have jumped right to angry. Yes, you are angry about two of your friends sucking face. You hate being angry with it, but there's absolutely nothing you can do about your emotions. At the very least, you've stopped wishing that you were the one kissing him. And you're not only mad at Jade, so there's that. You're angry with the both of them, and yourself, and, Hell, why not Nepeta? Let's not leave her out of this party!

Speaking of Nepeta, you guess that she's more bold than you thought, because she pulls you to the side, frowning in frustration, concern, and worry. It's an odd mixture, and one that she's probably not used to feeling. "Karkat, is something wrong?" She asks, and the concern must win out, because her voice is soft, even by her standards.

You hesitate, and consider telling her for only a moment before you shake your head. "No." You insist. "I just- want this date to go well for Jade and Dave."

The words leave a bitter taste in your mouth, but Nepeta nods in agreement, looking over at them. "They do make a cute couple." She remarks, and you can't help but agree. Despite your distaste, they… work together. They compliment each other nicely, and they both seem very comfortable with the other's presence. You hate it, but they're great together. You simply don't factor in.

You're radiating displeasure as the four of you head back inside, and all of them can tell. You guess that none of them care, because no one mentions it. You still have no idea what this play is about, and you aren't eager to sit through the rest of it. All this little outing is doing is making you antsy. It's just reminding you that you could be doing something else right now.

See, you aren't stupid enough to think that the guards will let you in if you show up late at night. So you plan on not leaving work after your shift. You're going to hide out in the bushes, and wait for night to fall. Then you can sneak into the castle, kill the prince, and as for getting out… You can just say that you fell asleep on the job and only woke up now. Or something that's actually intelligent. You suppose that your cover story doesn't really matter. It's not like you're going to be coming back. As long as it works in the heat of the moment, you're golden.

Somehow, you manage to get the exact same seats as last time when you go back into the theater. You aren't sure how no one took your seats, but you're not complaining about it. Just like the last time, the windows are covered, and the stage becomes the only source of light in the room as act 2 commences. And, also just like last time, you can't be bothered to follow the story at all.

You don't wait for Jade and Dave to start kissing again. Five minutes into the play, you stand up, muttering a flimsy excuse about the bathroom as you ease out into the aisle and leave the theater. You don't know what you're doing, and frankly, you don't care. Anything is better than just sitting there, fidgeting and trying not to tap your foot with impatience. You wait outside the door for a few minutes, and you aren't sure if you should be upset or relieved that no one comes after you.

Sighing deeply, you lean against the wall, suddenly feeling exhausted as you look around. You're in the foyer, so there's nothing spectacular to see going on. It's empty. Just you. Alone. You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you sink to the floor.

You seriously need to reevaluate your life. What in the actual fuck are you doing? Pouting. You're pouting. God, when did you get pathetic?

Footsteps sound from the stairs, but you don't care enough to look up and see who it is. You doubt that it's important, anyway. People tend to live in their own little worlds, and the chances of them even acknowledging you are slim to none.

"Are you tired?" The person, a woman, asks. Internally, you groan. Why can't you just be left alone? Your luck is awful. Still, you raise your head, looking up at her. "If you're tired, it's a lot darker in the theater." She continues. "You could sleep there. I don't think anyone would mind. Unless you snore, of course."

You're quiet for a moment, studying her. She came from the balcony, so you assume that she's pretty wealthy. And she's dressed like she is, too. Her blonde hair is tied in a tight bun, jewels and gold strung throughout. Her dress reminds you of Feferi's from when you first met her. It's obnoxiously huge, with layer upon layer to cover her up. Unlike Feferi's though, you actually like this color. It's a pale pink, and it goes well with this woman's skin tone. Everything about her is kind of like that- quiet and subdued. Her dress doesn't even have that many jewels on it. As far as noble dresses go, you would definitely consider this one to be simple. It's nice. You decide that you like it. And she looks nice enough too, so you suppose that it wouldn't be too much of a chore to at least be decent.

"I'm not tired." You tell her, climbing to your feet. She doesn't look like she believes you, and with how sunken your cheeks must look, you don't blame her. You really need to be getting more sleep. "I'm just… exasperated." Yes. That word fits right.

She hums in thought, tapping her chin. "May I ask why?" Her voice is nice, like the rest of her. It's soft and coaxing, like you don't have to tell her anything if you don't want to. But that just makes you want to tell her everything.

You bite your lip, but nod after a pause. "It's this girl." You sigh. It's easier than telling a completely stranger that you're in love with a guy. "I'm… kind of in love with her, and she made me come here with her friend on a double date, and watching her make out with her boyfriend isn't really my idea of a good time." You grimace at the memory, looking away. You don't even know why you're telling her this. It's not all that important. You should be able to suck it up for a few more hours and finish this stupid play. Then you can whine about it to Kanaya. Oh, wait. You're leaving before you'll have time for that, aren't you? Huh. The thought settles oddly in your stomach. So maybe it's good that you're getting these feelings out now, since you won't be able to later.

"Girl problems, huh?" The woman chuckles dryly, sighing softly. "It's not that bad. It gets better. Trust me." She pats you on the arm, giving a sigh before she sinks down and takes a seat on the stairs.

You hesitate for a moment and bite your lip, thinking over what to say. You don't know this woman, but then again, talking about your problems does nothing but make you feel conceited, so… "Do you? Have girl problems, I mean." You clarify.

She shrugs, relaxing her perfect posture as she leans back and looks at the ceiling. "In a way." The woman muses. "Not the romantic kind. Problems with my daughter. She's left the house, so I don't see her anymore, but…" she sighs forlornly, shaking her head. "I was a horrible mother. So many things I said to her… and I would take it all back if I could." The sincerity in her voice is startling, and you feel guilty for trying to talk about your _romantic_ problems of all things while this woman was dealing with something as _real_ as this. You're disgusting.

"Can't you… talk to her?" You ask after an awkward pause. "You know where she lives, right?" You don't think that it would be that hard.

The woman shakes her head though, holding in what you think is another sigh. "No. I'm under house arrest." She almost looks like she's pouting, crossing her arms and glaring at the floor. "Believe it or not, but I haven't been out of my house in years. This outing took months of coaxing, and even now, my husband thinks I'm just going to the bathroom." She rolls her eyes, her frustration clear. "It's absolutely ridiculous, you know. First, he pushes away our kids, and now he won't let me leave his side. I don't know why he's so worried."

You frown. Something about her statement… struck you as odd. "Probably because there's reason to be worried." You point out. You're not going to ask what might be going on in their lives that should or should not be causing worry. You really aren't that nosy, and you also don't care a whole lot. You _just_ met her. "Why aren't you worried, if it's so apocalyptic to him?" It just seems a little weird to you.

"Probably because he fears the unknown." She tells you without any hesitation. You get the feeling that she's spent more than her fair share of sleepless nights thinking about this. "And it's not unknown to me." She smiles at you softly. "I already know that this is going to blow up in our faces. He's trying to pretend that the inevitable is avoidable, when I've already accepted it."

Her smile is so sweet that it's jarring. You would expect the smile accompanying that statement to be bitter and resentful, but it's not. It's just… a nice smile, and it's easily one of the most unnerving things you've ever seen in your entire life. She should be tearing herself up over this, but she's not. She's already accepted it, as she told you. There's no worry or fear anymore. Just cold acceptance.

You open your mouth to spout out some bullshit excuse - anything to get you out of there - but she stands before you can. "Well, Karkat." The woman sighs, dusting off her skirt. "This was nice. I will never see you again. Goodbye." She leans in, kissing your cheek briefly, before she pivots on her heel and heads right back up the stairs.

You stare after her, your mouth open slightly and disbelief and confusion evident on your face. That exchange… meant something, you think. But you have no idea what.

You wait until you aren't sure what you're waiting for, and then you turn and head back into the theater. Your friends give you odd looks as you sink down into your seat, but they don't say anything. You expect them to drill you later, after the play. And you will avoid their questions, because that's what you do. You lie and cheat and steal, and you don't deserve any of them.

It takes you far too long to realize that you never told that woman your name.

* * *

The aftermath of the double date thing goes about as well as you expected. Jade chews your ass out for causing a scene, and you quietly take it because you deserve it. Nepeta and Dave are on the more concerned side of the spectrum, but they're both a little ticked off with you, too. You think. If they are, they're both excellent at covering it up. Which isn't always a good thing.

Dave mentioned maybe getting something to eat after the show, but you must have ruined the mood beyond salvation, because he just decides to take Jade home. You are in charge of delivering Nepeta home safely. Both of the girls live down the exact same path, so Dave telling you this seems kind of stupid, but you don't object. You just offer Nepeta your arm and try to pretend that you aren't numb to emotions. You do… decently well, you think, but she isn't fooled. About halfway to her house, your conversation with her stops completely, both of you content to just listen to Dave and Jade blather on and on about the most trivial of topics.

You stop outside of her house, waving to Dave and Jade as they continue on. As you expected, Nepeta wants to have a word with you. You aren't very confident about lying your way through this one. Nepeta isn't an idiot, and she knows your behavior patterns frighteningly well. But you don't expect this to take long. You do, however, expect it to be painful.

Nepeta puts her hands on her hips, looking you up and down. You're both standing just outside of her front door. Why you don't take this inside, you aren't sure. Maybe Equius is home. You don't know his schedule well enough to make a good guess one way or the other. "Karkat, do you have feelings for Jade?" She blurts out. Subtlety wasn't going to get this conversation anywhere, so you understand why she would be upfront about it. That doesn't make the question any less weird for you, though.

"No." You say quietly. You considered lying about it, but Nepeta would be able to tell. You might as well just tell the truth and get it over with.

It takes her a moment to put two and two together. "Oh." Is all she says, her words just as soft. "I… didn't know that you… were like that."

Somehow, you manage a weak smile. "Yeah."

A pause. Neither of you is sure what to say next. So you go with the obvious.

"I'm sorry."

Nepeta shakes her head, and she doesn't even bother trying to fake a smile. What would be the point? "Don't be." She insists. "You don't get to choose who you love." She doesn't make eye contact with you as she says this. But you aren't an idiot, either. You know that she isn't talking about you and Dave.

You don't apologize again. Instead, you close the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around her and holding her tight against you. Nepeta returns the hug, and though she doesn't spill a single tear, you can hear her sniffling, fighting to keep them down. You feel like you should say something, but nothing comes to mind. What is there to say, anyway? Eight sentences is enough to convey how absolutely _hopeless_ the both of you feel. It makes you want to hold her closer.

After what feels like an eternity, you do have to pull away. You leave Nepeta with a kiss on the forehead, giving her one last apologetic look before you turn and go. You hear her door open, and close behind her. You don't look back.

Predictably, Dave isn't home when you knock on his door. He isn't home an hour later, when you're sitting on the floor outside of his door, knees pulled up to your chest as you wait. It seems like all you do anymore is wait. But you can't remember what you're waiting for anymore. You want to say that you're waiting for an opportunity to finish this God-awful job, but that doesn't… feel right. You don't want that anymore. You want-

"What are you doing?" Dave asks, looking down at you curiously. Funny. You didn't even hear his approaching footsteps.

You don't answer his question, climbing to your feet. "How was walking Jade home?" Your tone is a little more prying than it should be, but either Dave doesn't notice, or he doesn't care. He just gestures for you to move out of the way, and you do, giving him room to unlock his door.

Dave frowns at the question, biting his lip as he thinks about it. "It was… nice." He tells you finally. "She invited me inside once we got there, and we entertained the kids for a while with some games and stories. It was a lot of fun." He smiles, and you feel your heart twist almost painfully at the sight. God, this man is going to be the death of you.

"So," You clear your throat, stopping Dave before he can go inside. You want to address the elephant in the room. "The kissing. Was it… also nice?" You really wish that you didn't care.

His smile slips away, and Dave doesn't answer immediately. He looks like he's really thinking hard about it, comparing kissing her to kissing you. You're not selfish enough to pray that he picks you, but God, you almost do. Almost. "No." Dave settles on after his moment of consideration. He seems genuinely surprised by his own answer, but the shock is quickly replaced by disappointment. "No, I… I didn't like it." Dave sounds horribly lost, and this time, the feeling of your heart twisting actually _is_ painful.

So you nod, forcing a smile as you pat his shoulder comfortingly. Because he doesn't need your whining right now. He needs a friend. "It's okay, Dave." You say encouragingly. "I'm sure you'll find a girl you like."

Hurt.

That's the word that you were looking for earlier outside of the theater- before Jade cut off your thoughts.

You never expected just how much love would hurt.


	14. The Walk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really short, so to make up for it, the next one is really fucking long. You're welcome.

This is boring. There's no doubt about it.

Admittedly, crouching in the bushes and waiting until nightfall hasn't been your best idea, but you had looked at the situation from every angle, and this was the easiest way to have access to the palace after working hours.

But, God, is it boring.

It's painfully, painfully dull. You have considered purposely attracting the attention of a guard just to have something to do. Like curl up into an even smaller ball and hoping that no one finds you here. How exciting would that be?

You hate your life more than usual right now. You know that you really shouldn't complain - your mission is (thankfully) almost over - but you've never had to wait in the same place for this long. You find yourself craving company, and immediately shake the thought from your head. After Gamzee died, you got used to being on your own. These past- almost three years now, you think- have changed that. You're accustomed to having people around you again, and you miss them. It leaves your chest cold and tight, and you hate it. You hate it almost as much as you hate being attached to your friends in the first place.

Including Dave. God, do you hate- well, wish that you could hate him. Stupid Dave and his stupid perfect face and his stupid kiss. You don't think that he's messing with your feelings on purpose, but it hurts. It really, really does, so you focus on it. Pain has always driven you. Don't get attached. Don't stop moving. Don't settle down. Because if you falter for even an instant, everything falls apart. You lose people and things who were dear to you, but it seems that no matter how badly you ache, you just keep making the same mistakes. Over and over. It's terribly predictable of you, and of humans in general. Your species is very fickle. Humans crave companionship, and sadly, you are no different.

You can be different temporarily, though. You can burn all of your bridges to ash and feel the sting of the flames later.

Wallowing in self-hatred is a very good way to pass the time. Night falls before you know it, and soon, you're easing out of the bushes. The guards are patrolling, but you have a few minutes before the next one walks by you. You don't push your lucky by lollygagging, quickly moving on. You duck and weave through the garden, keeping your head down and your steps light as you pick your way back.

The further you get, the louder you allow yourself to be. The guards start thinning out, and your steps, much like your breathing, quicken. This is a mission of stealth, not of speed. You have all night to do this, after all. But you want to be done here as soon as possible. Chills race down your spine, and they're not caused by the cold. You feel like you're being watched, and Vriska's words keep echoing in your head.

It's stubbornness and stubbornness alone that pushes you to continue. You duck into the narrow tunnel, opening the hatch and dropping down into the darkness. You don't have a torch with you this time, and it's much more unnerving than you remember. You have to slow your steps to keep from tripping, one hand on the wall to help you walk over the uneven dirt. It takes longer than it did the first time. You think. There's really no way to be sure. It's just you in the tunnel, accompanied only by your footsteps and the sound of your heart pounding. Still, you can't shake the feeling of being watched, and have to force yourself to keep from sprinting to the end of the tunnel.

You almost trip when you first come across the stairs, but it's an easy trip up once you regain your footing again. Up and up and up and no end in sight. Relief floods through you when the stairs abruptly stop, and you can tell without needing to see that you're in that little hallway. You're nearly frantic as you hurry to the end of the passage and push the door open. Fresh air and pale moon light pours into your hidden space, and you take greedy gulps of air.

Your moment of bliss is cut short by the sound of footsteps, and you duck back into the darkness, closing the door behind you. The person - whoever it is - stops just outside of the door, and the silence is drowned out by the deafening sound of blood rushing to your head as your heart pounds with adrenaline. You're scared. No- you're damn terrified. You've never been so unwilling to go through with a job before, and you've never been so unsure in all of your life.

The person who you assume is a guard, lingers for a minute longer before he finally continues on his route. You wait until his footsteps fade completely before you let out the breath you had been holding, and try the door again. This time, no one approaches, so you take the opportunity to slip out while you still can.

You shut the door behind you, making sure that the curtain is covering it before you creep across the hallway to the prince's bedroom. This is it. The moment you've been waiting for for three years now. After this, you'll be awarded enough money to never work another day in your life. You take a deep breath, put your hand on the door knob, and push the door open.

It's as anticlimactic as it sounds.

The room beyond is dark, and you're greeted by the soft sound of snoring. You can see the outline of furniture - a chifferobe, a desk piled with papers and books, a bed - and you stand in the doorway until you finally realize that your eyes aren't going to adjust anymore than they already have.

You steady your resolve, pulling your sickle from its sheath, and close the door behind you.

It ends up making the room even darker, as the prince already has very narrow windows, and the thin curtains over them don't help matters. Still, you have enough light to make out the form lying on the bed, his chest rising and falling steadily as he sleeps, blissfully unaware of the world around him. At least you won't have to wake him. This should be quick and relatively painless. You just need to stab him a few times and let him bleed out. So, maybe not that painless. But it hardly matters. You can just muffle his screams of pain with a pillow. Maybe you should slit his throat? You pause, standing over his bed as you think about how to do this. Dammit! Three years. Three years you had to prepare, and now you can't even figure out how to stab the guy.

You can't make out the curve of his throat from here, so you cross that one out. A wrong cut there and you won't kill him- you'll just put him in extreme pain. The chest or stomach is probably your best bet. It's a much bigger target, and you can see it moving with his quiet breaths.

You ease up onto the bed, putting your legs on either side of him. He shifts, but doesn't wake, and you let out a sigh of relief. Your grip on the handle of your sickle tightens. Alright. It's finally time. No going back now, as much as you wish that you could.

And that's your mistake. You hesitate, sagging a little, and instead of hovering above him, you end up putting your full weight on the prince. His eyes fly open, confusion and bewilderment present on his face. You see his mouth open with the beginning of a sentence, but you don't give him the chance to get it out.

Your grip reasserts itself, and you bring your sickle down in his gut. You don't look at him. You can't, because if you did, you know that your doubts would be too much and you wouldn't be able to go through with it or live with yourself. You don't need a face to fuel your guilt-induced nightmares. Usually, your targets are power hungry nobles or people who have done bad things and never paid for it. You've never killed someone innocent like him, though. At least not on purpose. It doesn't sit right with you. You want to gag.

He jerks under you, gasping at the sharp pain. Surprisingly, he doesn't scream, shakily reaching to feel where your blade makes contact with his stomach. He looks up at you, making eye contact, so you do the same. And officially cease to breathe.

"Ka… rkat…?" Dave forces your name out with a sort of wheeze, staring at you as if he still hasn't fully processed what just happened.

Your blood runs cold.

You have just made a very big mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah.  
> Dave lied about his status in the last chapter. Or, stretched the truth a tad. Just a tad.  
> Also, I feel like some people might be upset because I pulled this out of nowhere or something, but, uh? I've been hinting at this in literally every chapter. Go back and check if you want. This is what I was always going for, because it strongly affects the plot in Act 2. So hopefully this is an okay twist.  
> Next chapter soon.


	15. Not Strong Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What can I do? I would die without you.  
> In your presence, my heart knows no shame.  
> I'm not to blame.  
> 'Cause you bring my heart to its knees, and it's killing me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That awkward moment when the chapter titles doesn't just apply to Karkat.

You're hyperventilating.

 _Fuck_.

Of all the most ridiculous, completely unexpected yet obvious in hindsight turn of events, not once did you ever suspect that the prince would be Dave. Or, that Dave would be the prince? Goddamn, how did you not see this coming? Vriska warned you! You- you had a life made! You could have just dropped the mission entirely. Your boss would have had your head for that, but at least you wouldn't be here, crouched over Dave's sleeping form with a blood-stained sickle plunged in his gut and his eyes slipping closed.

_Oh goddammit._

"Dave? Dave, oh my fucking God, do _not_ close your eyes!" You cup his face (are you shaking?), staining his cheeks with blood as you try to get his attention. No. No no no no no. You can _not_ lose him. You need him (when did you start crying?). Jesus, you need him so _badly_ and you were a fool to think that you could ever leave him. "Just- just stay with me. Everything's going to be fine." (are you trying to convince him or yourself?) His eyes are unfocused, and you see a flash of recognition in them before Dave lets out a low groan and passes out.

Mother _fuck_.

You shakily climb to your feet, surveying the damage. It's not hopeless, right? You can still fix this. You think. Your sickle isn't as deep in him as you thought it was, and you are so damn relieved. Your hesitance from earlier worked in your favor. You don't think it hit anything important. He's not coughing up blood, so you cling to that minuscule hope and refuse to let go. You need to- fuck, you need to get him somewhere to bandage him up. But you can't just get a guard. They'll end you, and then your boss will be infuriated and try even harder to get Dave murdered. Okay, so, you can't go to the palace staff. Oh, God, what the fuck are you supposed to do? You were supposed to be gone by now!

Okay. Okay, you can do this. You just need to- calm down. The important thing is to not panic, even if the love of your life is bleeding out on his bed and it's all your fault. Yeah. No reason to panic. You can totally figure a way out of this. You can- take your sickle out of him for starters, you suppose. Yeah. That seems like a safe bet. You gather up his expensive sheets to use as bandages and steady yourself by putting a hand on his stomach. You've never seen Dave shirtless or even touched his chest before, but now is not the time to appreciate how fit he is. Of course, he's fit. He works two fucking lives, and you never noticed. Some friend you are.

You count to three in your head, then slowly pull your sickle out of him. It's a sickening sight to witness, but at least it doesn't catch on his skin and tear even more. You sheath it against at your hip, hurriedly taking the sheets and wrapping them around his abdomen. Christ, that's a lot of blood. You are reassured by the knowledge that you've seen more. Much, much more. He can still recover from this. Maybe. You just- you need to get him out of here. A missing prince is better than an injured one sitting in plain sight, waiting for the next assassination attempt. The next assassin won't have a bond with him, and they won't hesitate. You only just think to grab his shades, shoving them into your coat pocket as an afterthought.

Luckily, Dave isn't that heavy. You pick him up bridal style, and it's actually kind of easy. However, not terribly efficient. You set him back down, thinking about it for a moment, and instead put his legs around your waist, and prop him up against your back. You have to tie his ankles together with strips of fabric and do the same to his wrists, which go around your neck. Your hands are around his thighs, keeping his legs up. It's not like he can hold himself there, after all. And who's fault is that? Yours. It's all your fault.

Once he's situated and you're satisfied that movement isn't going to make his wound worse, you slip out of his bedroom and dart across the hall. Somehow, you get lucky. There are no guards around, and you hurriedly make your way into the tunnel. You are so glad that you're not going up. Climbing stairs with Dave strapped to your back would not be easy.

You're working in a daze, your mind running circles around you as you try to catch up with these recent developments. Dave is the prince. Okay. It makes more sense than it should. That would be why he's always gone in the early mornings and at night. You still don't understand how or why he leaves the safety of the palace walls, but you can pepper him with questions when his life isn't in danger. His ragged breathing is what keeps you going. The weak pulse that you can feel through his wrists is what you focus on. Alive. He's alive. And as long as you keep moving, he'll stay that way.

"Halt!" The guard's booming voice cuts through the night, and you jerk in surprise, looking around. Shit, had you really been thinking that hard? You don't remember getting outside the tunnel at all, much less to the front gate. You stiffen, remembering who you're carrying with you. The prince of Derse, unconscious and clearly not well if his clammy temperature is anything to go by. Your mouth is dry as the guard approaches you, holding his torch up to get a good luck at you.

You are so fucked.

His eyes are drawn to Dave, and you do your best to not look nervous. You can't tell what he's thinking, his face blank as he scrutinizes you. You're not sure why he hasn't killed you yet.

"Another late comer from the party." He grumbles, turning to the guard up at the top of the drawbridge. "Lower it!" He shouts, and you stare as the chains slowly help the slab of wood to the ground.

"Party." You repeat, your face blank. Yeah. You… have absolutely no idea what he's talking about.

The guard nods, turning back to you. "The party in the kitchen." He says gruffly, nodding toward the castle. "The head cook is celebrating twenty years on the job. 'Been lettin' people in 'n out all night." He grumbles.

Numbly, you nod. "Definitely from the party." You agree. "My friend, um, Flynn here had… too much to drink, so I'm taking him home."

He grunts in recognition, but you don't think that he's really listening to you. The guard waves you over the drawbridge, and you hurry to cross before he can question the expensive looking blanket wrapped around Dave's torso.

You can't believe that you actually got through that. For all intents and purposes, they should have killed you. Security is looser than you imagined. Maybe the guards are just getting sick of the king's paranoia, or maybe they just don't give a damn. You don't think it matters. You walk as quick as you dare, scared to move too fast and jostle Dave's wound. You don't feel any wetness leaking through your shirt, so you hold out hope that the bleeding has stopped.

Climbing stairs with Dave strapped to your back isn't easy. His weight causes you to stoop forward, afraid that leaning too far back would put your weight off center and you would topple right back down with Dave taking the brunt of the damage. The thought alone makes you take your time. You can't let Dave get hurt again, and especially not by your hand. The influence he has on you is phenomenal. You can't lose him. You-

You just aren't strong enough to cope.

Eventually, you make it up to your apartment, and unharmed, too. You unlock your door and hurry to the bedroom, depositing him carefully on the bed with shaky hands. Gently, you arrange Dave to be lying properly on the mattress and pull the blanket away to get a look at his stomach. His skin is stained with dried blood, and it's smeared over him in an ugly mess. But the wound has at least begun to clot. There's still some places where it's bleeding, but it's not enough for you to be worried for his life anymore. Dave should be fine. You think. You hope.

Oh God, how are you going to be able to explain this to Dave when he wakes up? Because he's definitely going to wake up, and you need to be ready when he does. He's probably going to hate you for this, and you would deserve it. You stabbed him! What kind of asshole stabs their best friend?

You bite your lip, wiping some of the fresh blood off of his stomach. Dave doesn't react in the slightest to your touch, and your worry reaches impressive new heights. You are an absolute idiot. There's no way for you to make this up to him. Not to mention Jade and John! They're going to wonder where he is, and when they eventually piece together what happened, they might actually kill you. Possibly. They're both remarkably nice people, but fucking with their friends is a huge no-no. You once saw John stare down a guy who was trying to flirt with Jade. He didn't even say anything. He just stared. But, God, the waves of hatred rolling off of him were enough to terrify even you. You are not looking forward to explaining this. Maybe you won't have to, though? You can just keep Dave locked in this room for the rest of his life, safe from harm. Yeah… no. That's stupid. You are stupid. Life is fucking _stupid_. You didn't sign up for this, and you want your money back.

A knock at the door interrupts your pondering, and you tense up. You close your eyes, praying that if you're quiet enough, whoever it is will just go away. "Karkat!" The person sounds after barely even a minute. "You piece of shit, open up!"

You know that voice. That is not a good voice.

Ordinarily, you wouldn't open the door, but you are genuinely worried that something awful will happen if you don't. Well - you glance at Dave - more awful that everything that has already happened. You sigh and make your way to the door. You hesitate once you put your hand on the doorknob, but you're going to end up opening it for her anyway, so you just swallow your resentment and pull it open.

Almost before you can process her, Terezi has shoved her way by you and made her way into the bedroom. She shuts the door behind her, a huge bag clutched in her grip as she mutters curses that you can't quite make out. It takes you a moment to remember that you don't want her to be alone with Dave, and you start after her. Before you can get very far though, Vriska stops you, one hand on your shoulder. Her glare chills you to the bone, and if looks could kill, then you would be six feet under right now.

"You can't even follow basic instructions." She seethes, and she looks like she's inches away from _actually_ pounding you into the ground. "I mean- really. Is it too much to ask that you _look_ at who you're stabbing? There was a way to do this without fucking _stabbing_ him. Do you know how few the possibilities are of him surviving this?" Vriska gestures towards the bedroom, and you're too caught off guard by the outburst to be thinking anything besides, _wow, I can't believe she cares about something._

But then you remember where you are, who you're talking to, and just what, exactly, you had to go through to get here. And then it's your turn to be angry, your hands curling into fists at your sides. " _I_ can't follow basic instructions?" You snap. "You can't even _give_ basic instructions! _"You're going to wish you hadn't,"_ " You mock, holding your hands up to do air-quotes for extra effect, "I mean- what the fuck kind of instruction is that! You could have just told me that Dave was the fucking prince of Derse ahead of timed and saved us the trouble of this entire shit show! But no! You just _had_ to fuck with my head, didn't you? Solid advice is just impossible, isn't it?" You want to punch her. It's her fault, just as much as it is yours. It's Vriska's fault that Dave got hurt, and that you had to watch his blood spill between your fingers.

Vriska scowls, looking at you like you're the gunk on the bottom of her shoe and she would rather be doing anything else than interacting with you. "Fine. Do you know what would have happened if I had told you?" She steps forward, and something about the way she carries herself makes you step back. "There are a lot of possibilities because, as established, you can't think in a straight line to save your life, but I'll give you the three most likely. One, you wouldn't have believed me, and gone through with this mission anyway." She jabs a finger in your chest for emphasis, and you wince. Fuck, her nails are sharp. "Two, you would have changed your mind about going, deciding not to risk it, and gotten your ass fucking murdered for being unable to complete your job. Or, three, and this one is my personal favorite," the sarcasm in her voice is so laden and heavy that it's actually impressive, "you would have confronted Dave about it, he would have denied it, and you would continue to grow more and more suspicious of it until you eventually drove him and everyone else away and you were murdered _miserably_ instead of just painfully."

Your anger has faltered, trying to regain its firm footing even as Vriska continues to knock it down with her gaze alone. You want to ask her why she even cares about Dave, or how she found out where you live, but you don't get the chance.

Terezi exits the bedroom, her expression tight and unreadable as she approaches. You and Vriska fall silent, staring at her as you wait to hear the news. She wasn't gone long, so you can't imagine that it's going to be good.

"Karkat," She turns to "look" at you, letting out a deep breath, "your skill with that sickle is remarkable." You blink. What? What does that have to do with anything right now? "The cut was incredibly clean. You didn't tear into anything vital- or, at least, nothing that can't be healed." Terezi cracks a grin, then elbows you hard in the stomach. You wince. Did you mention how these girls like to hit you with the sharpest parts of their body? "Relax, tough guy. I'm fucking with you. Jeez, lighten up. Dave's fine. He's probably going to be out for a while still, and there's a chance that he could get infected, but the cut itself is nothing to worry about as long as you don't rip it open again or something morbid like that."

Her smile doesn't reassure you even a little bit. You aren't going to be reassured until Dave is perfectly fine again. Which should take… a few months, you think. God, that isn't good. How could you do this to Dave and still claim to care about him?

"I need to pack." You say suddenly, looking around. Vriska and Terezi look at you oddly, so you try to explain yourself. "I can't stay _here_! Dave is the prince, and as soon as they realize he's missing, the king will tear the town off of its foundations to find him. Then there will just be another assassination attempt, and after this, I doubt that he'll be able to even breathe without a guard hovering behind him like a shadow." You scowl. "And I know my boss. She wants him dead, so she's going to stop at nothing to get it. Guards or no guards. I need to… get him out of town and… regroup and think about how to solve this bullshit…"

You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. You can feel the beginnings of a migraine coming on behind your forehead. When was the last time you slept properly? Never mind - it doesn't matter. You have more important things to be doing.

"I agree." Vriska speaks up suddenly, causing you to open your eyes and look over at her. In response to your puzzled expression, she just shrugs. "What? You're right. No point in wasting time arguing. You should pack and get Dave. Terezi and I will wait for you outside."

That seems to be the end of the conversation. Vriska turns on her heel, exiting your room just as quickly as she came in. Terezi giggles, waving at you as she follows after her. "Good luck, crabby." You think that she winks at you behind her blindfold, but she's gone before you can remark on it, shutting the door behind her.

The sudden silence is chilling. You decide immediately that you don't like it.

You head into your bedroom, deciding to see what Terezi did. Dave hasn't been moved, but you notice that the wound is a lot cleaner now and that it's been closed pretty well. You frown, and upon closer inspection, you see that a very thin string has been used to sew it shut. Huh. That's… unusual. A blind girl stuck Dave with a needle and actually did a good job. You know what? You aren't even going to question her anymore. It makes perfect sense, and that's the end of that.

You take the sheet that had been used to stop the bleeding and tie the clean end around his abdomen. It's kind of big and expensive to be a bandage, but it stops the bleeding, so you really can't complain. You'll get him proper bandages later.

After that's done, you grab your bag and head into the kitchen. You take as much food as you can, enough to last a week, you think. It depends on how you ration it, and if Dave wakes up anytime soon to eat. Next, you cram three different outfits in on top of the food. You're not coming back. Almost as a second thought, you take your coin purse, adding what you can't carry on you to the bag. Funny. After all that has happened today, it feels silly that you would ever worry about something as ridiculous as money.

You put the bag over your shoulder, sighing as you brush the hair from Dave's eyes. He's sticky with sweat and doesn't react to your touch. You aren't completely sure if he's going to wake up or not, but it's out of your hands. If he wants to wake up, he will. And if he doesn't…

Then you really don't know what you'll do.

You frown, lifting your head from your ponderings as you look around. There's a strange smell in the air, and you can't place it, but it draws you to the window. For some reason, it makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise with fear. And you soon realize why. The light coming in through your window is definitely not sunlight, and you almost don't want to check, but you know that you have to. You push your curtains back, peering outside. You know what you're going to see, but it still makes you stiffen with panic. Flames, licking up the side of the building. They're moving quickly, getting louder and louder as the building fuels their rage.

You're stuck for a moment, watching the heat devour your apartment building. You can feel the flames from here. The only reason you move at all is the sharp reminder that Dave is with you. You have to get him out of here while you still can.

Quickly, you pick him up. You decide to worry about his wounds later- when he's not in danger of being burned to death. Blood loss is something that you would much prefer over charred flesh. You settle him on your back like you did before, holding him against you tightly.

You curse your door for a moment, wasting precious seconds to let go of Dave with one hand and open the damn thing. By now, people in the building are waking up. You hear their screams of panic, quickly drowned out by the raging roar of the flames and then silenced permanently. You don't think about it.

You just run, muttering a quick prayer as you start down the stairs. Your footsteps are fast, and your center of balance is incredibly off, but somehow, you manage not to fall and reach the bottom unharmed. Smoke fills the first floor, but you suck it up, angling Dave's head so that his nose and mouth are pressed against your shoulder. It's not much, but it should keep the smoke out of his lungs.

When you finally make it out of the building, you struggle across the street before you collapse to your knees, a coughing fit wracking your body. It's violent enough to make you worry that you're going to hack up a lung. But it stops pretty quickly, and you gently roll Dave onto the ground on his back, making sure that he's okay. There's soot in his hair, which you brush out, your fingers lingering longer than they should. He's okay, though (fuck, how is his hair so soft?), and you're ridiculously relieved.

You turn back to the building, watching blankly as the roof caves in on itself, the sound of snapping wood joining the symphony of screams and the crackling fire. It's not so much crackling anymore as it is roaring, growing and growing and hungering for even more. It's kind of poetic, you think, nodding your own agreement to yourself as you watch.

You must be more out of it than you thought because it takes you ages to realize that you aren't alone. You whirl around from where you're sitting, looking up at Vriska with disbelief painted onto your face. She stands with her hands on her hips, eyes on the destruction in front of her and her expression unreadable. "Huh." Is all she says.

And you snap, lurching to your feet. "'Huh'?" You repeat, grabbing her by the collar and yanking her forward. Vriska stares at you like you're a pest, a mild annoyance at the best, and somehow - impossibly - it pisses you off yet further. "A fucking building burns to the ground, we almost _die_ , and the best you can offer is 'huh'?" You're almost screaming at her now, and Vriska frowns.

"Karkat, relax." She sighs, stepping back. You let her, if only because you're going to end up slamming your fist into her face if you don't. "There was only a small chance that you were going to die in that fire. You're fine, so calm down."

You stare for a moment, uncomprehending until it suddenly clicks. "Wait." She can't be serious. "You _knew_ that this was going to happen?" Vriska doesn't reply, her lips pressing into a thin line, but that's all the answer you need. "And you just fucking left us to _die_?" You ask incredulously. You don't know why you're surprised.

In reply, Vriska shrugs. "I wanted to see what would happen." She says as if that works as an explanation and is supposed to reassure you in any way. "I mean, in the long run, if you died here, my life would be significantly easier. It would be a far less favorable outcome, but easier. And I wanted to see what fate had in store."

You can't think of a damn thing to say in response to that. Your mouth is parted slightly as you struggle for something to say. Nothing comes to mind.

You're saved from having to reply by the sound of pounding footsteps. "Saved" is probably the wrong word, because it soon becomes clear that your night is only going to get worse. Vriska being a complete cunt would be easy. You could be embarrassed over your lack of words, say something stupid, and move on with your life, but no. Instead, you get this.

"You." Equius narrows his eyes at you, coming to a stop. He seems caught between staring at you or the burning building. You assume that he was sent down from the castle to see what was going on, but he doesn't look worn out in the slightest from the run. You're glad that you don't see a lot of him. You're pretty sure that he's not human. "Did you do this?" He gestures at the fire, taking a step towards you.

Automatically, you step back, but his progress towards you stops when he notices Dave. You don't see any recognition in his eyes, and for a second, you think that you're safe, but then Equius kneels down. He rubs the sheets between his fingers, eyeing Dave suspiciously. Suddenly, his eyes widen and he bolts right back up. "I knew that you could not be trusted." Equius growls. This time, he's stopped by Vriska. Why he lets her stop him, you aren't sure. He could probably throw her into the burning building from this point if he wanted to.

"Now now," She says in a lecturing tone, laughing nervously, "I know that you're pissed. And you have every right to be! He's obviously done something unspeakably horrible." Vriska gestures at you, and you think that you would rather have Equius pound you into the ground. She is _not_ helping. "But just because he almost killed the prince doesn't mean that-"

She's cut off as Equius suddenly grabs her by her shirt collar, yanking her right off of her feet and into the air. "How do you know about the prince?" He growls, and there would be something satisfying about the genuine fright on Vriska's face if you weren't as scared for your life as she was.

"Um," Vriska tries pulling out of his grip. It doesn't work, her legs writhing uselessly in the air for a minute as she tries to find solid purchase. You notice that she's smart enough to not even bother trying to kick him. "How do _you_ know about the prince?"

That's actually a very good question, if not somewhat predictable. But it works to distract Equius, and he raises an eyebrow. "I'm not a fool. The prince's bed chambers - which I didn't even know we had until the alarm was raised a few minutes ago - are found empty, his bed bloodstained, and a young man who looks just like His Highness is lying here with a sheet made from royal silk wrapped around him?" He frowns. "How big of a fool do you think I am?"

Vriska opens her mouth-

"Don't you even think about saying it." You snap, cutting her off before she can get a word out.

-and closes it quickly.

Equius looks between the two of you for a moment, frowning as he considers something. He then lowers Vriska to the ground, setting her down on her feet with surprising gentleness. He looks over his shoulder at Dave, who has still not moved. You're starting to get worried. Is he supposed to be awake by now, or are you just impatient? You don't know. "Well," Equius huffs, turning and approaching Dave, "I will just return the prince to the castle, and bring you in to be hung for treason." He tells you this simply- as if it's the most obvious thing in the world and only a fool would question it.

On impulse, you reach up, touching your neck with a blank expression. Yes. That makes sense. You tried to kill a member of the royal family. It's only logical that he bring you to justice. Being hung, while not your preferred way to go, would certainly be quicker and far less cruel than what your boss surely has in store for you. She has eyes everywhere. If she isn't already aware of your failure, then she will be soon. What are you saying? Of course, she already knows. The burning building is her way of saying that you're fired. She has a sense of humor in that way.

"I hate to interrupt, but…" Terezi begins smoothly. Her voice catches you off guard, and you look over to see her leaning against a tree, her hand in front of her face as if she can _actually examine her nails_. "I think you have more important things to worry about, muscle man." Her grin flashes in the light of the fire, and it takes you a moment to realize that that's still a thing. It didn't just suddenly stop happening because you ceased giving it your attention.

At the odd nickname, Equius pauses, his arms reached out to take Dave into his arms. His movements were slow like he wasn't sure if Dave was going to break if he was touched or not. He straightens back up, frowning at Terezi. "And what could possibly be more important than…" Equius trails off, following where Terezi is pointing to. You look as well and get the feeling that what you're seeing should trigger a sense of alarm. It doesn't. Being numb sure is weird. Or, it would be if you could feel it.

The fire is spreading, using the surrounding trees and wayward embers as fuel to continue. It's moving fast, racing down the dirt path and straight into…

"The city." Equius says quietly, finishing your thought for you. You and he reach the same conclusion at the same time. "Nepeta." His eyes are blown wide, and you remain unchanging even as your mind is screaming at you to get Jade and John out of there.

Terezi smirks at the both of you, making a shooing motion with her hands. "So what are you waiting for?" She raises an eyebrow above her blindfold. "Everything's going to be ash by morning. Are you just going to stand there gaping at it?"

For some reason, her words knock you out of your stupor. "Vriska." You snap, turning to face her. Your tone must tell her that you're not fucking around, and she blinks at you as if confused, but you can tell that she's listening. "You need to take Terezi and go get Jade, or I'm not helping you do jackshit. I'll even walk into the fucking fires myself. I'm going to take Dave and go get John, and we'll meet up at-"

You're cut off when Equius grabs the hood of your cloak, giving a rough yank that cuts off your air for a few heart-pounding seconds. "You are not going anywhere that I can't keep an eye on you." Equius tells you, and the tightness of the grip on your hood makes you believe it. You're not even going to question that statement. "You two," he gestures at Terezi and Vriska, "will go retrieve his friends. He will instead come with me to get Nepeta." They both nod, and so do you. There's not a lot of time to stand around and argue about it.

You walk over to Dave and adjust him on your back for the third time today. Equius raises an eyebrow at you, but you're going with him anyway, so it doesn't really matter who carries the unconscious person, you suppose. You look over at Vriska, frowning at the hesitance on her face. It looks like she wants to ask you something, but isn't sure how well it will be received.

After a moment of impatience, Terezi scowls and elbows her hard. It has the desired effect, as Vriska immediately starts talking. "So, yeah, about that getting John and Jade thing. Haha, funny story-" She rubs the back of her neck sheepishly. "I… actually don't know where they live, so some directions would be nice. Unless you want them to burn. I don't recommend that, but I guess that it's up to you. For some fucking reason."

You give her an odd look, tilting your head to the side as you consider something. Equius is tapping his foot with impatience, but he isn't rushing you yet, and the head of the fire is still visible, so you assume that you have time. "Aren't you supposed to be all-seeing or something?" You ask, voice flat.

Vriska bristles at your remark, crossing her arms. "That's not how it works." She scowls. "I told you- I can only see myself or someone that I picture in my mind. I only knew to look for you because I could see that you were going to have a huge influence on my life. This asshole," she gestures at Equius, and his expression tightens, "isn't going to influence me, hence why I don't know him. Jade and John's houses are _especially_ useless things for me to know, so if you want the casualties to be minimal, I suggest that you tell me where they live in the next three minutes."

You nod down the road, towards the town center. "Jade runs the orphanage a little down the road. Try to get the kids out without getting them killed, would you? John lives in the bakery in the town square with his dad. She can give you more specifics if you need it." You explain briefly. Equius looks like he's starting to get annoyed. That can't be good.

The four of you share a collective look (except for Terezi- she just kind of angles her head to face you) and head off down the hill. Running with a person on your back is actually pretty hard. You're just lucky that you're in shape. Dave is extremely light, too. Almost to the point of worrying you. You never noticed that before. Come to think of it, how often do you even see this kid eat? It's not like he can survive on a diet of just tea.

You're panting by the time you get to Equius' house, and the fact that you can't remember a solid chunk of that run would probably worry you if your emotions weren't fried from overuse right now. By now, the fire has worked it's way to his house, and it's already burning half of it. You don't know where Nepeta's bedroom is, but you hope for Equius' sake that she's okay. Though you don't see them together all that often (mostly because you want to avoid Equius), you can pretty easily tell how close they are to each other. You really aren't sure how they would cope with losing the other.

"Stay here." Equius tells you, prying the front door open. Ash falls out as it all but cracks off its hinges, and you wince. That door knob must have been burning up, but he takes it like it's nothing. "I'm going in to get her. We will discuss your future when I have returned." All you do is nod, shifting Dave to a more comfortable position as Equius pushes his way into the burning building. You are thoroughly impressed.

You're deafened by the roar of the flames, and they turn into white noise in the background as you wait. Something in the back of your mind tells you that you should move back. The road is wide enough that crouching in the middle of it should keep you from suffering any extreme burns from either side, but you can't bring yourself to move from where your feet are firmly planted. An ember lands on Dave's hair. You blow it away. And you wait.

The fire grows as you wait, and by the time you sense movement from inside, the flames have lept up and covered the floors and halls. You can't see inside the house anymore through the fire and ash, and you've subconsciously begun to ease back from the intensity of the heat. Equius comes running through it like he can't feel the flames, holding Nepeta against him to shield her from the fire with his body. She looks distraught, and you honestly don't blame her.

You feel useless, just standing there with Dave weighing you down. You want to help, but you can't do more than watch as the roof finally buckles and caves, cutting off their exit. You feel disconnected from the scene unfolding in front of you, and when you shout for Nepeta and Equius to be heard through the flames, the words feel like they're coming from someone else. You want so badly to believe that this isn't happening. This _can't_ be happening. Your whole life can't crumble into dust within an hour.

"Karkat?" Nepeta looks surprised to see you holding Dave like this. You blink, and quickly realize that the collapse wasn't total. One of the support beams is still standing, but barely, holding most of the rubble out of the way. There's a small hole- just barely big enough for you to squirm through if you wanted to. You hear the wood groan in protest, and automatically step closer to try and help, only to immediately step back again.

You do this for two reasons.

One, fire is _hot_. Shocker, you know. Your skin screams the closer you get to the heat, and you're a little amazed that Equius' skin hasn't begun peeling off. Or melting. The thought makes you gag, your stomach churning. _Fuck, why would you even_ think _about that_?

Two, Equius seems to want you to stay back, holding a hand up to signal you to stop. You can see him thinking, but it doesn't take long to reach a conclusion. He turns Nepeta to face him, and you can't hear what he's saying, but you can see her shaking her head. She tries to cling to him, but instead, he picks her up, practically forcing her through the small gap in the wood. It's good that Nepeta is even smaller than you, and all you can do is watch, stunned, as she kicks and screams and fights him, only to land safely on the other side anyway.

" _Equius_!" She screams, clawing at the busted door. The flames give a sudden lurch though, and she's forced to step back, clutching the front of her dress. She cries out, but whether that's because her hands are blistered or because Equius is all but dead, you aren't sure. Her legs buckle, and you think that she's going to pass out.

You reach out, grabbing her by the elbow. "Come on." You say quietly, giving a little tug as you look to the building. The front has collapsed. You can't see Equius anymore. "He would want you to go."  
Nepeta looks like she wants to argue with you - stay, and dig through the ashes desperately come daybreak - but instead, she nods. You have to swallow the lump in your throat. You don't think that you've ever seen someone as broken as Nepeta right now. Her eyes were always so bright- but now they're a deep, murky green. You don't think that she's actually seeing you right now. She's looking right through you- retreating to her subconscious to somehow convince herself that it's okay.

She doesn't look back at the building as you lead her away, doing your best to run. She just follows you.

When you finally reach the town center, you're panting and out of breath. Throngs of people bustle around you, raiding stores and houses and just _running_. There must be hundreds of them, all terrified of the fire as they abandon their homes. Crying children and screams fill the night air, but you don't hear any of it. There must be hundreds of them, and every time they manage to work their way out of the center, dozens more rush in to fill their places. It's a mad house of panic, but somehow you manage to spot Vriska with ease.

In the very middle of the open market, there's a public well for people to draw water from. Vriska is perched on the edge, watching the people bustle around her with a look that you can't quite place. She locks eyes with you immediately, not seeming the least bit surprised that Equius isn't with you. Of course, she's not surprised. She knew that this was going to happen. That's why she didn't seem to know him earlier. He wasn't ever supposed to make it.

You let Vriska's unwavering gaze pull you closer, a little surprised to see John and Jade sitting on the ground next to her. How did you not notice them before? When he sees you, John immediately jumps to his feet, opening his mouth to overwhelm you with questions, no doubt. He pauses when he sees Dave though, his face creasing with worry. Jade looks a little dead, looking up at you when you approach but, like Nepeta, not really seeing you. They appear to be in shock. John can't even come up with a question to ask you, staring at Dave with an expression that you can't place. It might be worry, but you aren't sure. It looks so much… stronger than just simple worry. It's the kind of expression that makes your stomach twist. No one has ever looked at you like that. Not even Gamzee. You never did anything bad enough to warrant worry to this level.

"We should go." You say when you approach. No one replies. You let the silence hang between the five of you, finally looking to Vriska for instruction. She knows how this is going to play out, right?

To your surprise though, she's shaking her head. "Not yet." She says. "We need one more person before we can go."

You frown, looking around your little group. Who are you missing…? "Wait." You double check just to be sure, and- yep, she's not here. "Where's Terezi?" You are going to kill her for wandering off.

"Getting the wagon." Vriska says dismissively, picking some fuzz off of her skirt like she just can't be bothered to care about the _fucking city burning around her_. "She'll be here soon. But she's not who I'm talking about."

You open your mouth to ask what she means, but before you can, someone sprints by you, jostling you and forcing you to bend over to keep your balance. "Hey!" You snap, turning to face them. "Watch where you're going, you-! Kanaya?" And immediately, your anger evaporates.

Kanaya is breathing hard, her chest heaving with the effort. She's clutching a pile of expensive-looking fabrics to her chest, and for a moment, she honestly doesn't appear to recognize you. Even though you saw her just this morning for work. "Karkat?" She frowns, eyes darting from face to face as she sizes up your little group. She soon relaxes though, licking her lips a little nervously. You doubt that it does anything. Fire has a way of sucking all the moisture from the air. "I was just trying to save my mother's work from the fire." She explains, and you realize that the fabrics in her arms are dresses. "She wanted me to." As she says this, Kanaya averts her gaze, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out what she means.

"Kanaya, I'm so sor-"

"It's nothing." She cuts you off, shaking her head. It takes a moment for her to compose herself, but once she does, Kanaya makes eye contact with you once more. "What are you still doing here? The fire will reach us shortly."

At this, Vriska for some reason decides that her input is needed and speaks up. "We're waiting for our ride." She tells Kanaya, smirking coyly. "Wanna come with? I'm sure that a wagon ride is far less messy for those dresses than running around with the rest of the commoners."

You can see Kanaya considering the offer, frowning. "I shouldn't." She says, but it sounds more like she's trying to convince herself rather than actually say no to you. "I really need to…" But she doesn't finish her false excuse, trailing off.

You understand why she would be hesitant, but you frown regardless. You open your mouth to reassure her, but before you can, the sound of pounding horses and wooden wheels creaking against the force being exerted on them makes you turn. You don't know why Vriska trusted Terezi of all people to get their wagon for their stupid traveling fortune teller business. She's a reckless driver, and people are forced to part for her, some only just managing to avoid being crushed by the horse's hooves as they scatter. And you're fairly certain that the wooden frame of the wagon isn't meant to bend like that. The whole back is covered with a thick white top, so it's hard to tell, but you think that the wood is coming close to snapping.

"Get in!" She barks, coming to a sudden stop in front of you all. The command is so sudden and so forceful that even Kanaya hurries to comply, all of you scrambling into the back. Vriska climbs up front, taking the reins from Terezi. You barely have time to sit down before the wagon lurches into motion once more, people jumping out of the way to make your passage easier. Maybe it's something about the way Vriska mans this thing. You have a hard time believing that she would actually care if she ran over someone.

You slip Dave off of your back, and John helps you lower him to the floor. Both he and Jade glue their eyes to his wound at the same time, but neither of them says a word. It's quiet in the safety of the wagon, the fire and terrified people melting away behind you. You sigh, shifting Dave to rest his head on your lap. You run a hand through his hair absentmindedly, pulling the tarp back to watch the city pass you by.

But you see something that makes you pause.

"Hey!" You turn to shout at Vriska. "Stop the fucking wagon!"

Miraculously, she actually listens to you, although she's not at all happy about it. "What the fuck is it?" She turns to yell at you, but you've already jumped out.

You run up to Sollux, who's out of breath and panting as he leans against a building, making no effort to run. You don't know why you're stopping for him. Maybe you're just tired of fucking up your friend's lives today. "Why aren't you running?" You ask him, frowning.

Sollux stares at you for a moment, processing the question. "I… have… been." He pants, bending over and putting his hands on his knees as he struggles to breathe. "From the… castle. It's - fuck - being… raided, so I… ran and didn't… look back."

You squint at the silhouette of the castle in the distance. It looks the same as it always has. You don't see how it could be being raided right now. But Sollux obviously ran for a reason, so you nod. "Here." You take him by the arm, tugging him towards the wagon. "Get in, before they get impatient and make me leave your sorry ass behind."

He glances at the wagon, then back at you, frowning like he isn't sure if you're serious or not. But you quickly decided that you've wasted enough time on him and grab Sollux by the front of his shirt, yanking him into the wagon after you.

Stumbling, he manages to catch himself with his hands before knocking his face against the wooden floor. Vriska doesn't wait for an okay. She just starts going as soon as you're in, tearing down the cobblestone streets. You feel bad for her horses.

Jade is holding Dave's head in her lap, staring straight ahead and looking at something that you can't even begin to guess at. Nepeta is doing the same, curled up in a ball towards the back of the wagon. And John, well- he manages to snap out of the shock pretty quickly. You're kind of impressed.

"Karkat!" He whirls on you as soon as you enter with Sollux, one hand on Dave's stomach as he tries to get a feel for how bad the wound is without removing the makeshift bandages. "What happened to Dave? Where are we going? And more importantly, why are we going there with _them_?" He gestures at Vriska and Terezi. They ignore him. "Can we wait for my dad? He went to the town over to get more flour, but he should be back-"

"Absolutely not." Vriska interrupts stiffly. "We're not going back for a long time, John. You can write a letter if you want so that he knows you're not dead, but going back isn't happening. If it makes you feel any better, there probably won't be much to go back to once the fire burns itself out." You don't think that she was trying to make him feel better. She was just trying to get him to shut up. It works though, and John falls silent, staring at Dave and tracing his skin as he thinks. The silence was more of a relief than you'd like to admit.

Sollux clears his throat awkwardly, turning to you. "So," he begins, "where exactly are we going?"

You shrug. "I'm not sure." You mutter, looking away. It's the truth. You're just trusting that Vriska has a destination in mind. As for you, though?

You aren't sure of anything anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should get, like, points for the most misleading summary ever. I thought that this was going to be short and end happily too, but nope.


	16. Act 1 Intermission 3: This Is War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A warning to the people, the good and the evil.  
> This is war.  
> To the soldier, the civilian, the martyr, the victim.  
> This is war.

You watch the scene before you play out dispassionately. You don't know why none of the guards are stopping him. He's painfully obvious as he hurries through the courtyard and to the main gates, his center of balance thrown off with the extra weight he's carrying, and his movements awkward as a result. Honestly. You can see him (easily smaller than your thumb at this distance) just fine, so why can't they? You ought to have them all fired. Or... just murdered. Your boss always preferred manslaughter over any other method when it comes to firing employees. Her complete and total apathy for human life is just one of the many reasons you look up to her.

Your name isn't available for disclosure at the moment, and you always knew that her little pawn was going to fail this mission. You could tell the moment you saw him. Maybe he was the man she had hoped for once, but losing that friend of his completely decimated that. He's a coward now. She was just too blinded by the need for convoluted revenge to notice. It was a brilliant plan. Such a shame it didn't work out.

It's funny how a revenge plot is what started this bullshit. Everything would have gone so much smoother if they had just minded their own business when this complicated plot began twenty-one years ago.

But that's not really your problem.

You sigh, and rise to your feet, taking one more glance out the window before you turn to face the room. Technically, it's the king's war chamber, where he meets to discuss private security and battles that are beginning to hit too close home and things like that. You've taken the liberty of borrowing it for the night. You could have killed the king and queen years ago and been done with it, but your boss insisted otherwise. It was too risky, she had told you, and you were inclined to agree. Too many guards. Too many eyes, on both you and the royal family. But you still think that the real reason she stopped you is greed. She wants to finish them herself, wants this game to be played in a very specific way, and she takes a twisted enjoyment out of doing so. She'll drag it out for as long as she can, watching the king slowly close up further and further into his own mind with nothing but his own insanity and paranoia for comfort. And you have to admit - you respect her for that.

"Um, excuse me?" The messenger boy waits behind you, frowning in confusion. "What did you call me for?" He's nervous, you can tell. Even someone as low down the ranks as a messenger can tell when things are about to get serious, and _fast_.

You have to think about the question for a moment. Your boss only granted you permission to give this order under the pretense that you do exactly as she desires. The specifics aren't too difficult to recall.

"Tell the troops that it's time." You say finally. "Storm the castle, take the valuables back to the base. Kill anyone that isn't with us, but take the king and queen alive. She'll want to see them. And…" Your gaze is drawn back to the window, the silhouette of the town clear against the night sky. "I want you to start a fire - at the apartment building not far down the road from here. Make sure that it spreads into the town. She's going to want some empty land to build her new kingdom on."

You dismiss the messenger with a wave of your hand, and he gives a clumsy bow before hurrying out of the room. The troops should be here within the hour. They're posted just a mile from the town border, in preparation for things going south. And as for the prince and the assassin…

You have instructions straight from the head honcho herself just for this moment. Just in case he cracked under the pressure, or took the prince himself to use for blackmail. Smoke him out, and stick close. Befriend him and gain his trust, or simply follow him when he no doubt leaves town. Your boss wants you to keep an eye on the traitorous coward, and you will.

Outside, you have a clear view of the messenger boy running across the drawbridge, lowered for him by the guards. These people are so easy to fool - they hardly ever notice anything.

You wonder if they'll notice the walls crumbling down around them.

**END OF ACT 1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty short chapter, which annoys me, but it’s absolutely essential to the plot (introducing the secret (gender neutral for now) antagonist - shh!), and I don’t want to add a fuckload of filler just for word count.  
> Anyway, welcome to this story's hiatus!


	17. Welcome to Act 2!

Your name is- well, it's not really all that important. Not to you, anyway. This is the internet, and it's full of strangers and possible murderers that you don't want knowing your real name. It's kind of ridiculous how paranoid you are. That coupled with the fact that anyone can find your first name if they look at your profile just makes this stupid. You're kind of stupid, aren't you? Just a little bit.

"Is this really necessary?" Rose raises an eyebrow at you from across the table, and you look up from your laptop long enough to address her before you go back to typing.

"Absolutely." You reply. "Fourth wall breaks are essential if you're going to be writing something for Homestuck."

To that, she rolls her eyes. "That's ridiculous. You've written plenty of works for us without breaking the fourth wall."

"And read better ones." You add in, to which she shrugs, a faint smirk playing on her lips. You press your lips into a thin line, but you otherwise don't reply to that. " _Regardless_ , I'm breaking the fourth wall for this one. Is that a problem?"

Rose shakes her head. "You are the author, after all. I can't say that all of your readers will agree with this decision of yours, though. Fourth wall breaks to this magnitude are hard to pull off correctly." Her smirk widens. "Especially since you wrote a chapter specifically to write yourself into the story when you could have been working on Act 2 or, more importantly, your homework."

You flush indignantly, closing your laptop. "I'm not going to be in the story." You sigh. You would run a hand through your hair, but that's a little difficult to do with dreadlocks. Your fingers will just get caught on a loose strand of hair. "This is… just a hopefully creative way to introduce Act 2 and announce the point of view shift from Karkat to Dave, permanently, and maybe even provide a little light-hearted read before shit hits the whirling device. I know that my readers didn't come for this, which is why I'm posting the actual chapter tomorrow." You shrug. "Maybe they'll be excited. Maybe they won't. I can't really say." The ability to read your readers is not something that you have ever been good at. Do they care about your writing? Well, kinda, you suppose. Since they bothered to read it and be readers in the first place.

"How kind of you." Rose bites back a laugh. "You're being excessively cruel with this next act, you know." She points out. "Doesn't Dave deserve a break?"

You just roll your eyes. "Oh,  _please_. You and I both know that this isn't anywhere close to the most emotionally breaking stories on the internet. And Dave isn't even the one suffering the most. It's not like I'm going to kill him or Karkat off or anything." Rose gives you a skeptical look, and you pause. "Or, well, I don't have any  _plans_ to at the current moment." You frown at your closed laptop. While it's true that you are an incredibly apathetic person, it's not like you're doing anything new with this story angst wise. Some death, some unrequited love, and a whole lot of awkward 20-somethings being awkward. Ah, that will be fun.

"You should stop using character deaths to influence character development." Rose says suddenly. You should have written her with a cup of tea. That's kind of a recurring thing in your story, isn't it? That's weird. You're not British. Your story doesn't take place in Europe at all. You don't even like tea. Well, not warm tea. Iced tea is kind of nice sometimes, though. "You're a better writer than that. Death doesn't equal sadness once you use it enough." She sounds like your English teacher.

And she's right, but you still roll your eyes. "I only plan on five of them dying, and four are already dead. Tavros, Aradia, Gamzee, and Equius." You tell her. Well, in terms of the kids and trolls, you think. Dirk and Roxy aren't really… kids in this story. But, again, the trolls aren't really trolls. Jane and Jake are already dead, so that's seven dead, technically. Does planning to kill Dirk and Roxy count? They're technically the kids. So… you plan on nine dying, and three have yet to die yet? But then there's also the Signless. Or, uh, Kankri. He's dead. And you haven't decided on the Disciple yet. Should you call her Meulin? It doesn't really matter. Darkleer is dead too, thanks to that fire… and so is the Dolorosa. The Handmaid is dead, same with the Ψiioniic, and-

Rose suddenly kicks the table, sending miscellaneous objects to the floor and startling you out of your thoughts. "That was not an invitation for you to provide exposition via thoughts." She glares at you sharply. "The reader is you right now, remember? You can't think so freely. Otherwise they might as well just not bother to read the story, and where does that put me?" There's a flash of emotion on her face, like genuine concern. Rose knows that she doesn't exist. And she isn't going to remember this conversation when she wakes up. Her world isn't real. It's just as fake as the one you borrowed her from for the sake of an AU, and she knows it. It terrifies her, as determined as she is to hide that. She wants to exist. And you would grant her that if you knew a way. But fictional characters aren't real, as much as you would both like to deny that. Omnipotence isn't all that great. It was one of the first things she asked that orb of hers.  _"Am I real?"_ and she had been given nothing more than a simple  _"no"_  in reply. You would feel bad about writing her that way, but it's necessary. You know that a part of her resents you for it, but you'll make it up to her. Somehow.

"Relax." You say, but your words have a touch of sympathy that calms her down. "I was just listing off characters. I'll go into how they die in later chapters. Does that work for you?"

There's hesitation in her expression, but Rose nods. "Yes." She sighs, standing up. "I'd love to talk more, but I have to go." She walks over to the only other feature in the "room." You use quotation marks, because it's really more of a space. A big, white expanse that you can manipulate as you please. You call it "Here" because, well, that was the first thing that you thought up and you didn't want to put effort into anything better. "Here" pretty much summarizes the space, anyway. It's nowhere, but also everywhere at once. You like paradoxes.

The table and chairs stand out starkly against the blankness. The door that Rose approaches is likewise eye-catching. It's wooden, like the furniture, but smooth and polished. You can't control that, unfortunately. Anyone can leave, so long as they truly want to. If you walked around the door, you would find nothing except more emptiness, but when Rose opens it, the frame is filled with her bedroom. Her physical form is tucked in bed, sleeping soundly in the darkened room. The only light is three candles, their flames burning weakly by her bedroom door. There are, of course, no windows underground. "Feel free to write yourself into my dreams again." She tells you, an unreadable expression on her face as she considers her sleeping self. "For now, I have to be up. I need to leave early if I want to get to Dave at the right time."

You nod, having already opened your laptop again. "Have fun." You say with a dismissive wave. "And be nice to Kanaya."

Rose blinks - almost as if she's surprised - but then she smiles. "I'll be on my best behavior." She promises, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she steps through the door. It closes behind her, and disappears slowly, becoming transparent until you can't see even the faintest sign of it anymore.

You're alone again.

Should you care? You aren't sure. Maybe you should. But loneliness has never been something you struggled with. Some people just like to be alone.

You turn back to your screen, and begin to type.


	18. But You Can't Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You spent half of your life trying to fall behind.  
> Using your headphones, to drown out your mind.  
> It was so easy, and the words so sweet.  
> But you can't remember. You try to move your feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going back to my regular update schedule. Every other Wednesday.

_This is odd_ , you find yourself thinking.

The thought echoes around you, bouncing off of walls that don’t appear to exist. Everything is white, so maybe there  _are_ walls there and you just can’t see them? You aren’t sure. You just keep floating and floating and not running into anything so you don’t think that there are walls. Logically, then, there shouldn’t be an echo, but you don’t think that logic really matters all that much here.

Wherever “here” even is.

You like being Here, though. You remember incredible pain and waking up Here. Just floating along. No pain to be found. Had you imagined the pain? You don’t see how. It had felt so real. Nothing that you would even begin to know how to imagine. You frown, and quickly dismiss the memory. It probably isn’t important. Nothing Here is really important.

_“Rose?”_

You turn around in the air, looking for the source of that voice. It’s so familiar. Too familiar. Wait. Isn’t that…?

_“Rose!” You called, running through the dizzyingly tall corridors of your home. “Rose, c’mon!” You whined, stomping your foot unhappily. “Hide and seek isn’t fun if I can’t find you!”_

_You remember her giggling, finally pulling back the expensive silk dining table cover to peer out at you. “Dave, you always give up so easily.” She had teased you, smiling as she climbed to her feet. Her stupid frilly dress had made this task much harder than it should be, but she didn’t seem to mind how awkward the action was._

_You crossed your arms, sticking your chin in the air. “Well, maybe if you didn’t take all the best hiding spots, I wouldn’t give up so soon. Who could have found you under there? It’s practically implausible.”_

_“Impossible.” Rose had corrected you automatically. “I could show you some of the better hiding places if you want- all you have to do is admit that I’m the Queen of Hide and Seek!” She had jabbed a finger in your chest to punctuate this, smirking triumphantly._

_You gaped at her. “What? No way!” You sputtered. “Then you’ll know where to find me and you’ll_ always  _win!”_

_Rose giggled again, her laughter bouncing off of the marble ceilings and walls. “I already always win, you dummy!” She stuck her tongue out at you, running off before you could come up with someone better to say. “Count to ten! We’ll do twenty-three out of forty-five if that’s what it takes to prove my point!”_

_“You’re on!” You shouted after her, turning around and covering your eyes as you counted to ten and Rose slowly snuck back into the room and slipped under the dining table._

_You wouldn’t find her for an hour, when her loud laughter finally drew you back, face red with embarrassment._

Frowning, the memory fades and little you and Rose are whisked away by some nonexistent wind. What was the point of that? You look around Here, as if the white expanse can provide some sort of answer. You miss Rose every day, sure, but why remind you of that? You thought that this place was supposed to make you feel better, not remind you of how painful it was to say goodbye to your sister. It rests uneasily with you. Your mom told you that she was kidnapped shortly before her wedding and never found.

And you… never told her how much she means to you, did you? She was probably the only thing keeping you sane before you met John and Jade.

As if summoned by your thoughts, the white in front of you shifts, darkening and hardening until the familiar, looming towers of the bookshelves in the castle library come into view. The doors are pushed open with a bang, and little you comes into the scene. You’re older now. You haven’t played hide and seek with Rose since you were six or seven, at the most.

_You’re bored- bored enough to come to the library of all places for entertainment. So you’re very, very, exceptionally bored. But Rose could find something of value in all of these musty pages, so you figured that you could, too. You would play with her and keep working on your made-up language, but she was with your mother for some kind of etiquette lesson. Maybe she was finally learning how to walk in that stupid dress._

_You looked for the most interesting section, which was easy to spot. It was the one towards the back- the section that not even Rose had bothered to touch yet. The section with poor lighting and plenty of cobwebs. It had leather-bound books, filled with depictions of nightmarish creatures and terrifying legends, and little you ate it up. You would come back every day, and sit in the very back of the library and read until you heard the dinner bell. Day after day after day you spent enjoying yourself, and enjoying reading. You didn’t think of it as reading. You saw it as a little adventure- something that was only for you. And in a life where you couldn’t even be trusted to bathe alone, that meant a great deal to you._

_One day, you had worked to the far back corner. You skimmed the titles, looking for something eye-catching. There was one book that you noticed for no discernible reason. It wasn’t like the others. In fact, you almost skipped right over it. It was small and thin, tucked away in between two, much larger books. It didn’t have a title written on the spine, but you were immediately drawn to it. So you took it and attempted to pull it out._

_When you did though, you quickly released it. It felt like there was some other force… pulling against you. Fighting to keep the book where it was. The creak and groan of wooden gears, decades without use, filled your little alcove, and you shrank back as your little, insignificant book somehow managed to part the bookcase it was resting on, revealing a narrow passage behind it._

_Little you absolutely loved this. You clapped your hands together in delight, not even hesitating before ducking into the darkened passage. You weren’t daunted by the darkness, trailing both hands on either wall to help you keep track of the passage. You were practically bouncing on the balls of your feet. You had never ever experienced something like this before! Life was so boring and repetitive. Even if this passage led to a dead end, it would still be more excitement than you’ve had your entire life._

_You felt the wind before you saw sunlight, but you eventually ended up at the end of the tunnel. In front of you was a curtain of leaves. How… odd. You had frowned, pushing the vines out of your way gently, blinking against the sunlight. It was a good thing that your father always insisted on shades, because it was very bright outside. The path emptied out in a forest, and you looked around, awed. You had never seen trees this tall up close before. You could see squirrels in the trees for once and birds flew overhead, singing songs that you had only ever heard from a distance._

_You decided in that moment that you adored the outside. And that you hated being locked up behind the walls of the castle all the time._

_You were drawn away from the tunnel by smoke. You could smell it through the trees, and you pushed the branches aside, following it. After a minute of walking, you came to a break in the trees, and stumbled upon a house. It was big and old, and you couldn’t see how such a structure could still be standing. There was no marble or stone to be found- it was all wood._

_“Hey.” A boy looked over at you, blinking in confusion. “Who’re you?”_

_It took you a moment to realize that there were five pairs of eyes on you. You swallowed nervously, choosing to focus on the boy with the pretty blue eyes who spoke to you first. He looked to be your age, so you trusted him. Adults were usually annoyed with you. But the other children of visiting nobles and servants alike seemed to like you well enough. You just weren’t allowed to be around them without adult supervision. Namely, your parents. They said that you might say something that you’re not supposed to, but they hadn’t told you what those things were._

_“‘M name’s Dave.” You had mumbled nervously, sticking your hand out to shake his. Your father always stressed the importance of manners. You normally spoke much more clearly, but he was a stranger. And he was staring at you with these big, innocent eyes that just made your knees feel like jelly._

_He grinned brightly, slipping off of his seat and walking up to shake your hand. “I’m John!” He had said proudly. “Do you want to join us?” He gestured at the set up behind him, where two tables were set up in the green grass and slabs of beef were sizzling above a fire. That explained the smoke, then._

_You shook your head politely, retracting your hand. “No, thank you. I should probably go home before my parents worry.” You were supposed to be having dinner soon. And if your parents found out that you were_ outside  _of all places- you would never be allowed to be alone again._

_John pouted, and he looked like he was going to press the issue, when one of the three adults rose to her feet. “Now, John,” the old lady had said quietly, putting a hand on his head, “don’t be pushy. You can always invite your friend over for dinner some other night. We can prepare better then, don’t you think?”_

_Her voice was very calm and relaxing, and John soon agreed, nodding rapidly. “Yeah! Thanks, Nana!” He wrapped his arms around her waist in a hug, to which she chuckled before returning the affectionate gesture. John then turned to you, grabbing the edge of your sleeve. “What do you think, Dave? Can we be friends?” He had all but pleaded, and you found yourself nodding before you could even really think about the consequences of saying yes. “Yes!” He pumped his fist in the air triumphantly. John’s cheerfulness was so contagious. It brought a subconscious smile to your face. “You can be friends with Jade, too.” John added, jabbing his thumb in the direction of a girl about his age. She was sitting on the lap of an old man, conversing quietly with him and giggling about whatever he was telling her. When she heard her name, she looked over at the two of you. “I gotta warn you though- she’s kind of mean.” To this, Jade stuck her tongue out at him. John rolled his eyes, shrugging at you as if to say, ‘what can you do, huh?’_

_Your smile widened. “I’d love to be friends.” You had told him, and you meant it just about as honestly as a ten-year-old could. You didn’t know how you were going to balance palace life with being John’s friend, but you still can’t remember ever wanting anything as fiercely as you wanted to be his friend in that moment._

And just like that, the memory is gone, all at once instead of slowly like the previous one. You reach for it, but by the time your fingers make contact with your past, it’s already vanished. You frown, your arm dropping to your side. You aren’t ready. You want to lose yourself in nostalgia because you know that you can’t stay Here forever. You have to face real life eventually, and you aren’t ready. You don’t want to think about it.

There was… someone there.

Someone crouched above you, and a searing pain in your stomach as you tried to blink away tears. Your hands go to your abdomen on impulse and, almost frantically, you yank your shirt up, tracing the skin there as panic claws at your throat. But there’s no hint of a wound on your stomach. Just smooth skin, and you trace it gratefully. You press your palm over where you know the wound should be, concentrating on that instead of the vivid memories flashing through your head. Being wrenched from sleep, blood slick on your hands and over your covers, sliding down your sides and  _it’s so clear why the fuck is it so clear?_

 _“Dave?”_ It’s your mother’s voice, filled with concern that you haven’t heard in years. You look around wildly, almost melting in relief as she forms out of the white surrounding you. After her comes the rest of the room, and as confused as your feelings for you mom are, you’d take her any day over real life.

 _You groaned in reply, giving her an irritated look as you set your book down. It was about proper sword fighting techniques or something. You should have found this fascinating, but there was apparently a way to make sword fights boring, and whoever the hell wrote this succeeded with fucking_ flying  _colors._

 _Your mother hesitated in your doorway, put off, you supposed, by your less than kind greeting. But you didn’t really care at the time. She_ had  _to be asking for hostile treatment. She would only talk to you or Rose when she was enforcing new rules set by your father. Rules that he didn’t have the time to tell you himself, but good God could he pull them out of his ass like nobody’s business._

_When he passed that ban on same-sex couples, you were especially confused. What did it matter to him who loved who? You asked him, but he didn’t answer, instead telling you sternly and with a smack for good measure to never bring it up again. Rose answered you, though. “Isn’t it obvious?” She had asked, one eyebrow raised at you in a permanent state of preeminence. You could only shake your head. The secrets of the universe seemed to be laid out before her, but you were blind to their presence. “He’s jealous.” Rose told you simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, turning the page of her book. “If he can’t be with a man, then neither can anyone else.”_

_That seemed a little petty to you at the time, but now you could see it. If you loved someone enough to want everyone else unhappy then, well, you would make everyone else unhappy. The closest person you could think of who would fit in that category was John. You had been thinking about him more than usual. You wondered why that was._

_“Dave, I…” Your mom took a deep breath, drawing closer towards you. You set your book down, your curiosity winning out over your annoyance. It wasn’t as if you were doing anything better. “I wanted to let you know that I love you.” She said, putting a hand on your shoulder. You were too stunned to say anything. Not that it mattered, as she quickly continued. “I know that I don’t say that often. I know that it’s hard to believe, considering how little time I have to spend with you and Rose, but I mean it. I love you both, dearly.” Her smile was soft in a way that you hadn’t seen since you were a child, and she leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re going to make me so proud.” She muttered against your skin, and then she turned and left._

_You didn’t move until long after she was gone. You were dazed, and incredibly confused. She just came right up to you with no provocation and said that she loved you? Well, you weren’t unhappy with it or anything, but still. An explanation would be nice._

_However tempting it was though, you didn’t have the time to hunt down your mother in the sprawling expanse of stone. You needed to get to your job. John had convinced his dad to hire you as a cleaner, which was just about the only thing that you could do right in a bakery. You were determined to never be late, as challenging as it was. One good thing about your dad’s paranoia though, the guards had absolutely no idea who you were. They had seen you and Rose grow up of course, but you were both assumed to be the children of nobles. Several of them stayed in the palace, and a lot never left. The left wing was kind of like it’s own little community. Your parents stayed detached from you in public, and you never dared to greet them informally when someone was watching. It was yet another of your dad’s rules. No one could know who you were. It helped that no one really cared enough to find out or ask questions. Just another face in the crowd. That’s all you ever were, in your home or not._

_Maybe it should have bothered you, but it didn’t. It bothered Rose immensely. She wanted to be somebody. You were too busy daydreaming about a boy with blue eyes and cowlicks to worry about doing something meaningful with your life._

_Outside of the castle, you did your best to at least be decent. You tried to help whoever you could, even if it was something as simple as giving a passing smile to someone who looked down or a few coins to a man who had just lost his house. Maybe Rose rubbed off on you more than you thought. You just wanted to be useful. After so long in the protective walls of the palace, you were getting restless. A ruler was supposed to support his people, not lock himself away._

_One day, you thought that you would make a good king. Even if the idea of doing so tied your stomach in tight knots. King meant a life-long commitment. It meant marriage. It meant kids._

_It meant no more going outside and posing as a baker’s assistant._

_You worked extra hard that day, and John’s dad rewarded you by letting you go home with the extra sweet-rolls that he hadn’t been able to sell. He restocked the goods every other day, and these were now considered “stale” by him. You thought that they were fantastic, even compared to the lavish feasts that you were treated to nightly at home. Despite the weird way you started the day with your mom, you were in a good mood. It wasn’t hard to be positive when you didn’t think about your future._

_And then someone bumped into you._

_You didn’t recognize him. You didn’t even see him approach. But he offered you back the treats that you had dropped, smiling awkwardly as if he was trying to cover up some huge fumble that you didn’t notice. “Sorry!” He had said hastily.“I didn’t see you there, Mr…?” You almost laughed. “Mr”? You? Ah, that was rich._

_Strangers were an automatic turn off to you though, and you frowned. He seemed well-meaning enough. And you didn’t want to be rude. You wonder if this is what your mom meant. When she said that she was proud of you. But then you shook the thought off and refocused on the present. “Dave. Just Dave.” You told him. You reached for the sweet rolls still in his outstretched hand and_

the world lurches away from you, and once again, there’s nothing but white. You frown, and you’re beginning to think that if you keep frowning, you’re going to start getting age lines. You sure do frown a lot. But why? There’s nothing Here to frown about. There’s nothing at all.

“Ah, don’t think about it like that.” A warm voice chastises from behind you. You jerk around, expecting another memory to surge towards you. But, no. It’s just your mom, standing out starkly against the white as she approaches you. Is there a floor? You feel around, but don’t brush up against anything even remotely solid. “Dave,” she chuckles a little, tilting her head to look up at where you’re floating upside down above her, “get down here. I’d love to let you figure out how to get down yourself, but we’re short on time. I’m going to be waking up soon. And you should, too. But I’m getting ahead of ourselves. Come down and have a seat.”

You don’t know exactly what happens in the split second it takes for you to blink, but when you open your eyes, you’re sitting in a chair exactly like the one back in your apartment, your mom across from you and relaxed in her favorite armchair. It’s a pale blue, just like her dress, but not made from material as expensive as the fabric used to hug her curves. It’s a familiar dress, and it takes you a moment to recognize why.

It’s the one she wore for dinner that day when you woke up with a sickle in your stomach.

The realization cuts through you as real as any blade, and you grip the arms of your chair until your knuckles turn white. Your head throbs like someone slammed you into a stone wall, and your stomach hurts so  _badly_ that you aren’t sure how you aren’t on your knees and emptying your stomach out all over this white.

Oh, wait. You are on your knees. But your stomach can’t seem to cooperate, wanting to empty itself, but unable to still long enough to do so. You dry heave, curling in on yourself as if that can somehow make the pain go away. Your mom is knelt down next to you, running a hand through your hair and murmuring something into the blond strands. It sounds like encouragements of some kind, but you can’t hear what she’s saying over the blood rushing through your ears. It doesn’t really matter though, because her tone is calm and patient, and slowly - painfully  _slowly_ \- you calm down.

You wipe your face, your sleeves coming away wet with your drool, snot, and tears. You grimace in disgust, but your mom doesn’t seem to mind. “Are you okay?” She asks, and you manage to shake your head. And, incredulously, she starts laughing. You lift your head, staring at your mom in disbelief as she  _laughs_. “I’m- I’m sorry-!” She calms herself down, taking a deep breath, but her smile doesn’t vanish. “It sure is great that you passed out, isn’t it? That way, you missed the brunt of the pain. Although, it’s not going to feel all that fantastic when you wake up.” Her smile falters, and she frowns. “If you wake up, I should say.”

She climbs to her feet, and you hurry after her. It sends a dull shot of pain through your abdomen, but it’s easy enough to brush off. “Wait, mom, I-!” You tug on her sleeve like you would when you were a child, begging for attention. You aren’t sure what you’re going to say, and you’re never going to find out, because she cuts you off.

“Dave.” Her gaze is piercing and serious and so sudden, that you immediately freeze. “Do you want to stay Here?”

You frown. You sure do that a lot, don’t you? “I-” You lick your lips, dry as sand. What happened to feeling great? That sure was nice. “I don’t understand.”

Your mom shakes her head, looking around like she’s waiting for something. “Do you want to go back home?” She presses, insistent. “The real world? I’m not going to lie to you, Dave. It’s going to hurt. It won’t be easy. This,” she gestures at the world around you, “would be easy. No pain. No bad memories, if you don’t want them. But there’s no one else except those you can summon from your mind.” She smiles, but it lacks any joy or comfort, and she taps her temple for emphasis. “You can’t interact with those, unfortunately. I’ve spent enough time Here and asked enough yes or no questions to figure that out. So I’ll ask again.

“Do you want to stay Here?”

The answer is on the tip of your tongue.  _“Yes.”_  Staying Here would be wonderful. You can tell. But something stops you. Your eyes are drawn to a feature just over your mom’s shoulder. It’s just a door, probably the most simple, unspecial door you’ve ever seen in your entire life. But you can’t help but take a step towards it.

Caught off guard, your mom follows your gaze, and the smile she gives is soft and genuine. “Don’t lie to yourself, Dave.” She says quietly, putting her hand on your shoulder just like she did all those years ago in your bedroom.

“You miss him.”

Your mind flashes to John.

“You need him.”

The image is replaced by Karkat.

“Go to him. I’ll be Here when you’re really ready.”

You’re not sure who you’re moving forward for - John or Karkat? Yourself or your mom? - but your hand makes contact with the doorknob anyway. You turn it, and frown at the picture you see on the other side. Why must you keep frowning?

You see yourself, sleeping in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar, dingy little room. You’re alone, your face twisted in pain and your whole body covered in a light sheen of sweat. You aren’t wearing a shirt, so the bandages wrapped around your abdomen are incredibly noticeable, your eyes glued to them. God, that doesn’t look good.

You hesitate. “Mom, I-” You turn, wanting to tell her that you aren’t ready. You can’t leave just yet. You can’t handle the real world. But then there are hands on your chest, cutting off your protests and pushing you back into reality.

It feels like you’re drowning. You can’t breathe, can’t see, can’t even  _think_ straight. Pain fills every inch of your being, and your entire focus goes to that. All you can think about is how  _you aren’t ready for this_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for those that were expecting this to be good.


	19. Find You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll run away with your footsteps.  
> I'll build a city that dreams for two.  
> And if you lose yourself,  
> I will find you.

God, it  _hurts_.

It's all you can think about. The pain claws at you, demanding your complete attention, and you're helpless to refuse.  _Could_ you refuse? You aren't sure. That requires putting energy into something, and you feel completely drained. Weren't you just asleep?

This probably wouldn't even be that bad if you had any prior experience with pain at all. The only experience you've ever had with stab wounds is when you wandered into the palace kitchens when you were younger and accidentally cut yourself on one of the knives. It was shallow and stopped bleeding almost as soon as it began, but your father banned you from going down there regardless.

What you are experiencing right now is nothing like that.

You're slowly waking up, and waking up just makes it worse because you're aware of absolutely every inch of your body. You feel like you're burning, even though you can feel the blankets bunched up around your feet. The sheets stick to your back, probably from the sweat that seems to be covering your entire body. All of it. You can't think of a single place that feels sweat-free, although thinking about it provides a nice distraction for all of three seconds.

You try to call out for someone, but your tongue feels dead in your mouth, and your throat feels like someone stuffed it with cotton. Some water would be nice. You open your eyes to look around and see if anyone left you some, only to immediately close them again. Fuck, someone took your shades off. Fuck,  _someone took your shades off and dressed your wound and brought you here, so why are you alone_?

The uncertainty is eating at you, so you try to push yourself up into a sitting position.

Not your brightest move, you'll admit, but the pain is taking the attention of most of your brain cells, so you blame your bad idea on the injury.

A fresh wave of pain hits you like a stone wall, and you can't muffle the little groan that slips from your lips as you fall back down to the mattress. That certainly doesn't help with the pain, and your hands automatically go to your stomach. Thankfully, it doesn't feel like you reopened the wound, but you aren't sure. You haven't entirely processed this situation. A wound. You're wounded. Stabbed, you think? You want to say that you can't remember what happened, but you do, all too clearly. So you push it to the back of your mind and try to pretend as if it doesn't exist.

The sound of your bedroom door opening does not help you calm down in the slightest. You stiffen, attempting to open your eyes again. You just get a good look at the ceiling for your efforts, and then they're closed again. You hate your stupid sensitive eyes. They're awful and definitely deserve your hate. Thinking about that helps keep your mind off of the increasing likelihood that this guy is here to finish what he started.

He (or she, you suppose) approaches your bed, his hesitation pliable before you feel a hand on the back of your head. You don't open your eyes, but you know what you're supposed to do when you feel him pressing the rim of a cup to your lips. You reach up, only to grip his wrist loosely as he carefully pours the water down your throat. You drink greedily, and while it's lukewarm and nowhere near enough, it helps.

When it's empty, you relax gratefully against the bed, trying to ask for more. Your mouth still can't seem to work though, because all that comes out is a few little whimpers and he sighs. "Dave, you don't need to be so pathetic." He says with a tone similar to affection, and that voice causes your eyes to shoot open (only to quickly close again).

"Karkat-" You try, struggling into a sitting position. That doesn't work, as he has one hand on your chest and easily pushes you back down. His statement was odd, but there's concern in his voice, and you're willing to bet even on his face, and it's such a fucking relief.

You can almost forget that he's the one who did this to you.

You don't really care about that, though. Well, that's not exactly true. You care, but you don't want to think about it. You don't want to imagine Karkat crouched above you, the  _fear_ on his face as you reached for the sickle embedded in your gut. You remember passing out, but his fear is what you cling to. He didn't mean it. He  _couldn't_ mean it, otherwise, you would be dead.

"Dave." Karkat sighs and the exasperation in his voice causes you to smile. Stab wounds hurt a lot less when you have people around to distract you. "Stop moving. You're going to open that wound again, and it's been decided that you're banned from bleeding out, got it? We all got together, cast our votes- you're also not allowed to burn to death, drown, swallow poison, or otherwise hinder the remainder of your existence."

It takes you a moment to catch up with all of that, and you force your eyes open. Karkat isn't looking at you, his eyes fixed directly above you as he wrings his cloak in his hands. Is rambling a nervous habit of his? You aren't sure. You've known Karkat for what feels like forever, but he's usually not so visibly nervous around you. You don't even stop to question why he's nervous in the first place.

Your throat is still dry, and talking hurts, your voice raspy, but you force out, "Okay, well, I didn't hear "getting out of bed" on that list, so-" You once again try and fail to sit up, thanks to Karkat putting pushing you right back down. Damn Karkat and his sudden acquirement of upper body strength. Or are you really that weak? You decide to believe that first option.

Karkat scowls down at you, but it does nothing to dampen your smile. He's so obviously fed up with you, a reaction that you've only managed to draw from him a handful of times. You don't get why, but it's as hilarious as always. "Also not allowed." He says firmly. "You're not moving. You're staying right here until that wound has healed enough for you to walk without killing yourself all over again."

You try to twist your body - just to show your complete  _lack_ of any pain - only to wince and immediately stop that. Because, oh yeah, you are in a great deal of pain and arguing is pointless.

Another sigh, but this time, Karkat just sounds sad. You feel fingers in your hair, and squash your surprise as he takes to running his hand through your hair. Should you be offended? He's petting you, like an animal. But you have never felt something like this before, so you just relax and enjoy it, leaning into his touch. It's strangely nice, you soon discover. You're not sure what it's supposed to feel like, but by all accounts, it feels pretty goddamn good. His touch is soothing. You feel like it should remind you of something, but you can't put your finger on what. Maybe your mom did this to you when you were little? You doubt it.

"Is anyone else here?" You ask quietly (Jesus, your voice sounds like shit), peeking open your eyes to actually look at Karkat. You must have closed them while he was petting you. He still seems to be adjusting to the red hue of your irises if his hesitation and mild shock is any indication, but you ignore it. You've stopped caring about the color. Your shades would be appreciated, though. You would like to be able to see without flinching at the slightest bit of bright light.

He recovers pretty quickly, covering up his surprise. "Uh, yeah." He nods. "We got three rooms at this inn for a few days. Nothing we could do about that." An irritated sigh. You wonder how long he argued with the innkeeper for on that one. "John and Jade are just outside in the living room." Karkat continues. "They're not very patient, but I convinced them that you needed a little more time to recover before they're allowed to pester you with questions. Vriska and Terezi are in the room over with Sollux. Something about wanting to keep an eye on him? Fuck if I know. Kanaya is staying with Nepeta. Jade should be with them too, but she and John just share a bed? They're pretty protective of each other. It would be cute if it wasn't so sickeningly sweet and if they both didn't snore."

Your mind is still trying to catch up with real life, and you almost ask him to slow down. Sollux? Your dad's advisor? What is he doing here? And Vriska and Terezi are those fortune tellers, right? That doesn't make sense, either. Nepeta you could understand, but then Equius should be here too… Why didn't Karkat mention him? And who the fuck is Kanaya? So many questions and you want to ask Karkat all of them. But there's a look on his face that wasn't there before, and he seems to be thinking pretty hard about something.

"Hey." You say quietly, and his attention shifts to you. "Something on your mind?"

Karkat shakes his head, forcing a smile that doesn't fool you for even a moment. "No." He sighs. "Do you want to go back to sleep? I'm warning you now- if you don't, the wonder twins are going to be pestering you until you drop from exhaustion. We really should explain things to them, but…" He crinkles up his nose in distaste. "They've been hounding me every waking moment. You've been asleep for two days, by the way. I said that I wanted to wait for you to wake up before we talk about anything, but they're both really impatient and worried about you." Karkat explains.

You nod, frowning some. Karkat didn't talk about whatever is bothering him, but you'll let it go for now. You're starting to develop a headache - a dull, but distinct throbbing, just behind your eyes. You want to curl up in these blankets and sleep for another week. Were you really out for two days? Your body feels unfamiliar to you, as if it's been much, much longer. "Yeah, okay." You murmur in agreement. "I'll talk to them in the morning."

That earns you an odd look. "Um, Dave?" Karkat gestures at the window you didn't notice, the curtains covering it pushed back halfway to let the sun in. So that explains where the light was coming from, then. "It's three in the afternoon." His tone betrays his amusement, and you just sigh.

"I'll sleep away another day, then." You say, shifting to be on your side. Moving sends pain flashing through you, but once you're settled, it's a lot easier to tolerate. Your sheets are as sweat-soaked as you are, and you knew automatically that you weren't going to be able to fall asleep on them. Even like this, you're still uncomfortable, but you don't bitch about it. You close your eyes, and that seems to be the end of the conversation, as Karkat takes it as his cue to leave. There's something… off about the way he's acting, but you can't think of what it is. It must not be too important to you though, because only a minute later, you're out cold.

* * *

In the morning, everything hurts significantly less. It still hurts like a motherfucker, but you can think rationally now. And, rationally, you should probably get out of here while you still can. Karkat hurt you. More than that, he made it so that you can't even move without being in pain. You want to believe that he's your friend, but what if he's not? He could have been lying about John and Jade being here at all in order to gain your need to get up. Walk. Make some effort to save yourself instead of just waiting here for him to return.

You struggle to a sitting position, an act that takes about five minutes. You aren't sure exactly, but you hate every second of it. You hate yourself for being so pathetic. Okay, you had a sheltered childhood. Boo-hoo, let's all cry for poor Dave. You clench your teeth through the pain, and eventually manage to push yourself up. It's sad. How can you be so weak?

You go to stand up, but before you can, your bedroom door is pushed open. You tense, only to immediately relax when you see that it's John. He looks equally surprised to see you, although that quickly erodes into delight. "Dave!" He's caring another glass of water and a tray of bread and cheese. You didn't realize how hungry you were, but now you're practically salivating.

He sets the tray down on the stand next to the bed and immediately wraps you in a hug. You bite back a groan of pain, shifting a little to make this easier on you before loosely hugging him back. "Hey, John." You say weakly, and he gives you a little squeeze before pulling back.

"Dave, I was so worried about you." He seems to want to be close to you, one of his knees on the bed next to your legs as he keeps his arms around you. You enjoy it while you can, leaning into his warmth. "I'm glad you're awake. Are you feeling okay? Oh! Right, your food!"

You squash your disappointment as John pulls away completely, grabbing the tray again. He sits on the edge of your bed, putting the tray in your lap. You start eating, trying to take it slow. But your stomach says that you can use table manners later, when you're not starving. You cram the food into your mouth, just barely remembering to chew it before swallowing. Somehow, eating makes you even hungrier, and you have to hold back a whine of displeasure when you see that the plate is empty. John looks kind of amazed, and kind of put off by what you just did. You make a mental note to die of mortification later and grab the glass of water. You chug it, making sure to drink it all, even as it starts to make you feel overstuffed and bloated. You know that you need it, and it does help you to feel more full.

When you're done, you set the tray and cup aside, silently staring at John. He's equally quiet, probably staring at your eyes. They're an unusual color and you know it, so you don't interrupt, waiting for him to adjust to them. Once he finally does though, John frowns, and your stomach clenches nervously. Shit, he doesn't hate them, does he? "Do you cover your eyes because they're red?" He asks quietly. You can't tell what he's thinking, and it's driving you crazy.

You shake your head. "Ah, no. The color isn't the problem. They're just incredibly sensitive to light, so it's easier to keep them covered." You explain quietly. John nods, considering this. He gets up, and for a moment you're worried that he's going to leave. But, no, he just shuts the curtains a little bit further before returning to your bedside. You didn't notice the strain on your eyes until it was removed, and you slump in relief. That's much better. "Thanks." You reply honestly, and John smiles.

"Yeah, of course. It's the least that I could do, since…" His eyes trail down to your stomach, and he clears his throat awkwardly, looking away. "Uh, never mind." He mutters. Your happiness falters. Something about the way John is acting doesn't sit well with you. You can't say why, but it's… odd.

There's a light knock at the bedroom door, and it eases open tentatively. Jade steps into the room, her tension melting away when she sees that you're awake. You know that the hug is coming, but that doesn't keep you from flinching when she presses into your scar.  _Has_ it scarred yet? You don't want to take the bandages off to find out.

"Sorry, Dave." She turns red in embarrassment, pulling back a little bit. Her arms remain around your neck, and you mask your discomfort effortlessly. You're not wearing your shades, so you keep your gaze fixed on Jade instead of looking over to John like you normally would. You want  _his_ arms around your neck. Not hers. But you've already accepted her affections, so you have to deal with the consequences. "I didn't mean to, uh, hurt you. I just- God, I was so worried." Jade smiles at you, and you manage a brief, upward turn of the corners of your lips before she's kissing you.

Right. She's your girlfriend, isn't she? So you should… be kissing back… Your hands find her waist hesitantly, and you're acutely aware of John's presence in the room. You want him to pull you apart. You want him to be the overprotective cousin or possibly the jealous love interest who is unaware of their feelings until the last possible second.

But this isn't a fairy tale, and you're not going to get out of your mess so easily. You close your eyes and do your best to enjoy it. You don't understand what the problem is. Kissing Karkat had been a quick press of the lips, but it just felt… God, you don't even know how it felt. It just left you wanting more, while kissing Jade makes your skin crawl with distaste. It's wrong. You don't know how, but this is so, so wrong.

You pull back a moment later, and Jade leans her forehead against yours, smiling fondly. You smile back, but it's not like it's hard or forced. You are genuinely happy to see Jade, and to not be kissing her anymore. The more you think about your relationship with her, the more you wonder when you're going to crack. You can't keep this up forever. Jade is more like a little sister to you, and John's presence certainly isn't helping matters.

"I'm glad you missed me." You reply, and she chuckles. "I'd say that I felt the same, but I was, uh, kind of unconscious. But I'm sure that I would have missed you if I could." You don't actually remember anything from being unconscious. You were awake, and then you weren't, and then you were awake again. Usually, sleeping at least comes with a sense of time passing, but you wouldn't be able to even guess at how long you were out if Karkat hadn't told you.

Jade gives a little laugh, hugging you again. This hug is noticeably gentler, and you appreciate it. "I know, Dave. It's okay. I'm just so happy that you're going to be alright."

You feel like now wouldn't be a good time to mention that the possibility of you getting an infection is very real. So you don't. You just stay quiet, running a hand through her hair and letting her bury her face in your chest. John gives you a knowing look, wiggling his eyebrows, and you scowl, playfully sticking your tongue out at him in response. He just shakes his head, but he's smiling, so you guess that he's totally okay with you and Jade being a thing.

Fantastic.

How did you fuck your relationships over this badly, again?

"Alright, break it up." Karkat's voice cuts through the tender moment, and you look up to see him standing in the doorway. He has one hand on his hip, the other holding a roll of bandages, and a look on his face that is either affectionate or annoyed. Both expressions look about the same on his face. "Time to change his bandages, so Jade, I need you to cease touching him for a minute or two. A trial, I know, but I think you can manage. Barely."

This earns him an eyeroll from Jade, but she gets up regardless. John follows her, and they both kind of hover in the middle of the room as Karkat comes to sit on your bedside. You shift your position to turn your back to him, watching over your shoulder as Karkat sets the fresh bandages down and goes about removing the old ones. He unwinds them from around your torso carefully, and you switch to watching your stomach as the stab wound slowly comes into view.

It's… not as bad as you were imagining?

Granted, you're no expert on stab wounds, but it's not bleeding, which is a huge step in the right direction. It's obviously pretty fucking red, so you're not sure if it's infected or not. You don't see any signs. No overly swollen or irritated areas, your skin isn't turning yellow or green, and there's no puss… you think that you're in the clear.

"Here, Terezi wanted me to give you some of this." Karkat reaches into his cloak, pulling out a plant that you don't recognize. "She called it yarrow or something? Marrow? Fuck if I know. She just said that she would tear your bandages off and apply it herself if she had to, and I don't want to risk it." He presses the plant (or, several of them, it looks like) to your abdomen, and you just raise an eyebrow in question. Karkat scowls. "Hey, don't give me that look, smartass. It wasn't my idea. Just tolerate it. We're changing your bandages again tomorrow, anyway."

You sigh, but since you don't really see the harm, you hold the plants in place for Karkat as he wraps the new bandages around you, holding them in place. Once he's finished and tied and tucked the bandages into place, you relax. Your body wants more sleep, and you are inclined to agree. You feel ridiculously tired, and let out a yawn despite yourself.

"Alright." Karkat turns to John and Jade, fixing them with a stern glare. "Party's over. Out so that Dave can get his beauty sleep. You can bombard him relentlessly with your questions in the morning." The two groan in disappointment, but don't bother arguing. John hugs you before leaving the room, and Jade gives you a brief peck on the lips before following.

You expect Karkat to immediately follow after them, but instead, he hesitates, seeming to be thinking about something. "Uh, something on your mind?" You ask, arching an eyebrow at him.

Instead of replying with an automatic "no," Karkat goes against your expectations yet again. "Are you…" he searches for the right words, "that is, how long do you plan on stringing Jade along before you inevitably break her heart?"

You wince at the accusation, but you know that he's right. What you're doing is excessively cruel. Well, it is if you get found out. "I don't know…" You mutter, purposely avoiding eye-contact. "Maybe I won't tell her. Maybe I'll just go along with this forever. She doesn't deserve to be hurt. What else can I do?"

Karkat opens his mouth to reply, but before he can, there's a knock at the door. Not your bedroom door, which is still open. God, you really hope that Jade didn't hear that conversation. She soon comes walking by though, and if her footsteps are any indication, she was deeper into the apartment, meaning that she was in her separate room. You are, admittedly, relieved.

"We'll finish this later." Karkat promises, following Jade to see who's at the apartment door. It's not all that hard to overhear the conversation. Karkat isn't exactly known for his volume control.

"And who, exactly, are you?" He sounds irritated, and on edge. You stiffen. What the hell is a stranger doing here? You're not sure, but you have an inkling as to what - or  _who_ \- they might be looking for.

The person's response is quiet - so soft that you can't make out what they're saying. It sounds like a woman speaking, but you aren't sure.

Karkat's voice is tight, and his words have an underlying threat when he says, "Sorry, I've never heard of anyone with that name. Why are you looking for them here, exactly?"

There's a sigh from the stranger, and her next words sound exasperated or annoyed. You aren't sure which. You can tell that she's definitely female, though. She hisses something at Karkat, who replies venomously, but keeps his voice infuriatingly quiet. For once. Goddamnit.

A minute later, Jade comes into your room, looking puzzled and a little bothered. "Dave, uh, do you know anyone named Rose?" She asks. Your eyes widen, and your heart stops for a few achingly-long seconds. Jade continues, having apparently not noticed your reaction. "Because she's right outside the door, and she really wants to see you. She says that it's important, but we can't just let anyone in, you know? Do you want to see her?"

You're still for so long that Jade starts to look worried. But you don't care because  _fucking Christ your sister is right there Rose is here you can see her again and holy fuck did you miss her._ "Yes." You kick the blankets off, trying to struggle to your feet. Jade hurriedly comes over and pushes you back down, easily holding you in the bed even as you attempt to struggle. You soon give up from a combination of both pain and impatience, instead gripping Jade's wrist to keep her still so that you can somehow convey to her how much  _you need this_. "Jade, fucking Christ, yes, bring her in. Please bring her in, I need to see her!"

Jade looks put-off by your strong reaction, but she nods, carefully pulling back. Her movements are slow, like she thinks you're going to attack if she moves too fast. You stay deadly still though, watching with a blank face as she leaves the room. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and fucking forget butterflies, because your stomach is housing a stampede.

You hear Jade explain what you said, and there are some angry words from Karkat, but you hear the exact moment when he caves, letting Rose enter the apartment. The door shuts behind her, and every step, her feet padding near silently against the floor, only serves to key you up yet further.

Finally, she enters the room.

You forget how to breathe.

Her hair is shorter now. It's cut choppy and uneven, and her face looks aged, a wisdom in her eyes that wasn't there before. Her clothes are too big, but they're practical. Just a simple pair of men's pants and a tunic. A golden key that you've never seen before is strung around her neck with a fraying string. There's a smirk on her face that's so familiar that it makes your heart ache, and you force yourself into a sitting position to see her better, swallowing your pain.

You had no fucking idea how much you missed your sister.

She reaches up, tucking a strand of sun-bleached hair behind her ear, and her smirk relaxes into a real smile. "Hello, Dave." Her voice is smooth and purposeful, just like you remember. "Long time no see, huh?"

You smile, shaking your head and reaching up to wipe away tears. It's so uncool, but fuck it. You don't care if she sees your little breakdown. You thought you were never going to see her again. "Yeah, no shit." You laugh.

Rose shakes her head, but if her smile is anything to go by, she missed you, too. It feels almost like she never left.


	20. Somewhere To Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?  
> I’m getting old, and I need something to rely on.  
> So tell me when you’re gonna let me in.  
> I’m getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin.

"I have to say, you've looked better, Dave." Rose remarks, one eyebrow arched as she approaches your bed. You thought that she would be more worried or curious about the stab wound in your gut, but you're too happy to see her to really care.

You attempt stand up, only for Rose to come over and push you right back down. Well, there goes your sitting position. "None of that." She chastises, and you roll your eyes. Your smile doesn't falter in the slightest. Rose is exactly how you remember. She always was the more responsible between the two of you. It's probably at least partially due to the fact that she's the older twin. Just a few minutes older than you, and she is every bit the overprotective sister. It used to bother you, but right now, it just about brings tears to your eyes.

"What? Not even a hug for little Davie?" You fake-pout. Rose does this long, drawn out sigh/eye roll before she relents and bends down to hug you. You wrap your arms around her tightly, and sigh in content. Even back when you were little, Rose was never the hugging type. You think that the occasion warrants a little affection, though.

Someone clears their throat from the doorway, and you both part from the hug. Karkat is standing there, his arms crossed and an incredibly unimpressed look on his face. "Can one of you explain just who the fuck she is and how you know each other?"

You and Rose share a look, the amusement in her eyes no doubt mirrored in your own. "Remember what I mentioned having a sister? Back when we first met?" You ask, turning back to Karkat. He just nods, and you can see John and Jade peeking into the room over his shoulder. "Well…" you gesture at Rose, "this is her. Rose, meet everyone else. Everyone else, meet Rose. She's my twin."

All three of them look surprised. Even Karkat, which you find odd. Did nobody tell him that the guy he's supposed to murder has a twin? You almost laugh at your twisted sense of humor, but luckily manage to hold it in.

Karkat looks like he has a million different questions to ask, but before he can, Rose speaks up. "Dave. Answer me something." You turn to her, frowning in confusion. But rather than ask you a question verbally, she starts moving her hands. It takes you a moment to get it, but once you do, you grin widely. You didn't think that she would remember your made up language. It had to be silent, since your parents always stressed that you and Rose keep as quiet as possible when adults were around. Hand motions did the job pretty well. The language wasn't very polished, but you get what she's asking.  _'Do you remember talking like this?'_

Rather than nod, you reply with your hands.  _'Yes.'_ You pause, considering something, and then add,  _'I'm surprised that you did.'_

Rose gives you a warm smile.  _'Of course. It was my favorite activity to do with you.'_ She admits. You stare for a second. Huh. She… never told you that. You thought that she hated always practicing the language. Making up words, going over them, repeating and repeating them until they were ingrained in your muscle memory.

You go to reply, but as soon as you raise your hands, Karkat bristles. He stalks over, pushing your hands back against your chest and glaring at Rose. "No, absolutely not." He shakes his head. "You two are going to answer my questions, and you're going to do it  _out loud_ right this fucking second before I flip my shit right off the metaphorical grill. And believe me, that is not a mess that you want to be around to witness."

You see Jade crinkle up her nose in disgust at the… vivid description, but Rose just shrugs. "Very well." She agrees. "What do you want to know?" But before Karkat can get a single syllable out, she curses quietly and frowns. "No, we can't do this here. We need to get everyone into the living room so that we only have to go over this once."

Karkat frowns - like he wants to disagree but is having trouble coming up with a good reason to do so. "Alright." He agrees hesitantly. "Jade, can you and John go get everyone in here?"

More hesitance. Jade shoots you a worried look, but nods. "Yeah, sure. We'll be right back." John is still hovering just outside the door, watching you all talk with an unreadable expression on his face. Jade has to tug him away with a tight grip on his arm, and you hear the front door of the room shut behind them.

You almost ask why Karkat didn't go instead. He has that authoritative air about him that you don't remember from… before. But the sickle sheathed to his waist answers that question for you. Of course they don't trust Rose. They don't know her like you do, so they have no reason to consider her as anything more than a threat, at best.

But a threat to what, you aren't sure. You don't know enough to understand what could possibly be at stake here.

Rose turns so that she's facing the same direction you are, kneeling down and putting your arm over her shoulders. You see Karkat tense, his fingers twitching for his sickle, but she starts talking before he can grab it. "Karkat, can you help me with Dave?" She asks. "When I said that everyone should be in the living room, I did mean everyone." You give Rose a grateful look. You really didn't want to miss out on this.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Karkat looks skeptical. "Won't moving him just make the wound worse? I was specifically told that we should give him at least a week to rest up before attempting to move."

You grimace - a week of just lounging in bed sounds awful - but Rose nods. "Trust me. He'll be fine. My family is the stubborn type. A stab wound isn't enough to put Dave out of commission - or make him want to sit still for longer than a second." The look she gives you is one of annoyance, and you flush in embarrassment. You know what she's talking about. When you were seven, you fell down the stairs and sprained your ankle. The wound was taken care of, and you were told to stay in bed for two weeks. Instead of doing that, on the second day, you attempted to stand, and… Well, it didn't go well. Two weeks turned to a month. Rose never let you live it down then, and you can see that even now, there's no escaping your brief lapse of common sense. You would hit her if Karkat hadn't turned you to be sitting on the edge of the bed and looped your other arm around his shoulders.

"Can you walk?" Karkat asks you, concern lacing his words. You're really happy that he worries about you. He's not a monster. Whatever reason he had for stabbing you, he didn't mean it. You can still trust him.

You begin to nod, and then frown. "I don't know." You might as well be honest. "But I guess there's only one way to find out."

Rose and Karkat share a  _look_ , and then both of them shake their heads. You feel horribly out of the loop, but that's not really surprising. Sadly, the feeling is becoming more and more familiar. "Alright." Rose agrees anyway. "Ready? One, two, three." She and Karkat lift up at the same time, and you wince as your whole weight is suddenly pushed onto your feet. It hurts to stand, the scar in your stomach throbbing, but it's not so bad that you want to sit back down. Well, you do want to sit back down, but you're not going to let yourself.

You take a shaky breath, and give a nod. They carry you forward step by step, and beyond how fucking  _pathetic_ it makes you feel, it goes pretty smoothly all the way into the living room. Karkat is lowering you into a chair when the door is pushed open. You look over, kind of surprised that it took them this long to get here. Jade leads in Vriska, Terezi, and Sollux, all of whom seem surprised to see you sitting there. Vriska gets over her surprise first, keeping a careful eye on Rose as she leans against a wall. Sollux awkwardly stands next to Karkat, and the two move away from you a little and start talking in hushed voices. About what, you aren't sure. It's probably not important, anyway.

"Huh." Terezi taps her chin, watching Rose curiously. "You're new…" She sounds suspicious, but she must decide that it's not all that interesting to her, because as soon as John walks into the room, her attention goes to him.

You still don't understand why she flirts with him so bluntly when he clearly isn't interested. Maybe his lack of interest is exactly what Terezi likes. Because she has an arm over his shoulder not seven seconds later, and before he can push her away, she leans in and whispers something in his ear that has John turning fifty different shades of red. You would actually find it pretty funny if it wasn't for your… feelings for John. You don't interrupt, instead leaving them to their weird back and forth. Rose's sudden shift in behavior is much more interesting to you, anyway.

She's standing up a little straighter, brushing away the nonexistent dust on her skirt as she gives… a girl (you think her name is Kanaya?) a warm smile. "It's nice to see you again, Kanaya." She practically  _purrs_ , stunning you and supplying the girl's name at the same time.

The shade of red that Kanaya turns puts even John's flustered expression to shame. "R-Rose." She stutters. "I… didn't realize that you would be here. I… How are you-?" She doesn't finish, suddenly becoming just as enamoured in her skirt as Rose is with hers.

The look on your sister's face is nothing short of satisfied, and you're so caught up in trying to understand their apparent relationship that you almost miss Nepeta slinking off the the back of the room. She leans against the furthest wall, and sinks down to the floor, hiding her face in her crossed arms. You want to ask what's wrong, but something tells you not to. You've never seen Nepeta like this before. You wonder where Equius is. He would know what to do. They've always been good at taking care of each other.

"Wait." Karkat speaks up, loud enough for everyone to hear. "You two have met before?" He gestures between Rose and Kanaya. You nod absentmindedly in agreement. You'd like to know about that, too.

Rose nods, and she glances at Kanaya almost…  _shyly_? What the fuck are you even watching? Rose isn't shy,  _ever_. She's one of the most confident people you know. You give Kanaya an odd look. She must be fucking incredible to make Rose do anything  _shyly_. "Yes, we've met before." Rose says, a hint of smugness in her voice. "Kanaya worked as a gardener. She tended to the flowers in my mother's personal garden." There's a glint of mischief in her eyes, and you don't understand why for a moment before Kanaya sucks in a breath.

"You mean your mother is…?" Her eyes widen, and she hurriedly takes two handfuls of her skirt, lifting it and dropping down into a deep curtsey. "Your Highness, I'm- I am terribly sorry, I didn't realize that I was- that you were-" She stops herself, closing her eyes. " _Fuck_."

And to the surprise of everyone in the room, Rose  _giggles_. "You don't have to bow." She says with a smile. "Everyone thinks that I'm dead. For all intents and purposes, I'm not in line for any throne." Her tone is gentle - coaxing - and Kanaya hesitates before slowly straightening back up.

"Hold on." John is frowning, and he manages to untangle himself from Terezi and step forward, closer to Rose. "Are you telling me that you're a  _princess_? The princess of  _Derse_?" He looks flabbergasted, and you can't blame him. Rose just seems amused, and you and her share a look. You only offer a shrug, and she nods. That's answer enough for John. "Okay, wait, that doesn't make any sense." He has the attention of everyone in the room now, all side conversations having trickled off. But he doesn't seem to notice, screwing his eyes shut tight as he thinks. "The queen had a miscarry, not  _twins_." He gives you an accusing look, and you have to look away. You don't have your shades, and you would very much like them back. It's hard to cover yourself like this, and it makes your skin crawl with unease.

Karkat sighs, and everyone turns to look at him instead. "Actually, she's not lying." He mutters. "That's what we need to talk about, guys. Dave's the prince of Derse, and since Rose is his twin, that makes her… a princess." The words come out bitter, but it seems like only you notice. He's already moving on, not giving anyone time to process this bit of information. "And I know because… I'm an assassin." He swallows thickly, staring at where the wall meets the ceiling directly in front of him and avoiding eye contact with the others. "And I'm supposed to kill him. Actually, I tried." He forces himself to look over at you, and there's a flash of self-hate in his eyes along with a whole metric fuckton of regret. "Hence the, ah, stab wound…"

Dead silence.

Vriska rolls her eyes, but Terezi at least pretends to look interested. The good news is that they're both quiet, letting everyone else absorb the information that they already knew.

"You're actually serious." Jade whispers quietly, a look of horror flashing across her face as she stares at your abdomen. You shift in discomfort, but that doesn't make anyone less morbidly curious.

"Seriously?" Sollux frowns, turning his head to grimace at Karkat. "You fucking stabbed the guy? Couldn't you have, oh, I don't know-  _looked_ to see who you were trying to kill?" He doesn't sound all that terrified or shocked or even bothered. If anything, Sollux is mildly exasperated. He had that attitude around your dad a lot of the time, too.

"I-" Karkat flushes an indignant shade of red, "I was having kind of an existential crisis at the time, okay! Probably not the best thing to do while trying to kill someone, but don't give me shit about it! If I hadn't hesitated, the blade would have cut clean through, and Dave would be  _dead_  instead of just injured!"

The silence returns, and the tension in the air is thick enough to suffocate.

John lets out a breath. "Karkat, that… this all sounds really made up, but… I can't think of any other way to explain this, and you aren't the type to play jokes like this." He blinks, and his disturbingly calm expression crumbles into one of panic. "Oh my fucking  _God_ , we have the two heirs to the royal throne in a shitty  _inn_ , guys-! We are in. So. Much.  _Trouble_. What do we do? They'll probably accuse us of kidnapping if we're found! And then- God, we'd be decapitated! Or hung. Or just left to rot.  _Fuck_!"

Those are all very legitimate concerns, but all they make you do is groan. "John, fucking  _relax_. Rose is considered dead, and I'm a goddamn mystery. They're not going to look for me in some shitty inn. They're probably just waiting for a ransom note…" You mutter, crossing your arms and sliding down in your seat. It makes your stomach twinge in discomfort, but you don't care. You're exhausted. You just want to be done here so that you can go back to sleep.

"Alright." Vriska claps her hands together, pushing off of the wall and coming to stand in the middle of the room. "Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, let's get to the thing that's actually important. Rose, was it?" She turns to your sister. "What exactly are you doing here? And how did you know where to find us to begin with?"

Karkat snorts, faking a little laugh. "What? The mystical, all-seeing prophet doesn't know? Can't your "third eye" just give you the answers if you mutter an incantation?" His words aren't playful. They're cruel and mocking, and you can tell from the set of his face that Karkat isn't in the mood for joking around. Least of all with her, it seems. You suppose that's fair. Considering what he told you about his meeting with her on John's birthday, he has every right to be mad with someone who treats him like an ignorant toddler.

Vriska doesn't seem to see it that way, and she whirls on him, her fists clenched in frustration and her face as red as a beat. "It doesn't work like that." She all but hisses. You can tell that it's taking some real effort on her part to not strangle him. "I can see  _a week_ into the future, okay? When I first started seeing you, I barely had enough time to pack up and move all of my shit to your  _crummy town_  in order to catch the interest of the bucktooth wonder over here!" She gestures at John, and he looks like he wants to protest, but Vriska just keeps on going. "Two weeks and I can't make out facial features. A month and bodies blur with the background. A fucking  _year_  and the only thing I can make out is a mess of colors and some garbled noises of what I assume is supposed to be conversation, so don't you  _dare_ pull that shit on me, Vantas! I'm not all-seeing, and you know it! I know it! Everyone  _fucking knows it, and there's nothing I can do about it!_ " She's huffing, panting for breath by the time she's finished talking, pressing Karkat up against the wall as she jabs her finger repeatedly into his chest to emphasize every word. He doesn't flinch or falter. Karkat meets her gaze head-on, unimpressed and unsympathetic.

There's a second where she falters, but it's only that. A second. Just as abruptly, she turns away from him. The expression on her face is unreadable and unnerving. You don't get a lot of time to study it, because then Vriska leans against the wall again, using her hair to cover her face and curling in on herself ever so slightly.

You aren't sure what you just witnessed. Something significant, definitely. But you're still reeling from the display, and you aren't sure what to think. Karkat definitely touched a nerve there, but he doesn't seem to care. He just rolls his eyes, meeting the gaze of everyone in the room with a glare as if challenging them to protest. No one does.

There's a sigh, and you see Terezi shaking her head. "Alright. All of…  _that_ aside, Rose,  _please_ just answer the perfectly fine question before the animosity level in this room gets any higher." She crinkles up her nose in disgust, giving the air an over-exaggerated sniff. "It's starting to stink the place up." You don't smell anything off. You don't think that anyone else does either, but no one corrects her.

Rose gives a nod, taking a breath. "Right, then… Well, I've been keeping an eye on Dave ever since I left home." She admits. You perk up a little bit. That's certainly news to  _you_. "I knew that he was going to attract trouble  _eventually_ , and I was right. That's actually why I came here. It's going to get very difficult very soon for Dave to go anywhere. Or, any of you, actually, now that you've all been associated with him. I'm afraid that she has eyes everywhere."

"' _She_ '?" Karkat repeats, frowning and tilting his head to the side a little bit. "Who is 'she'?"

To this, Rose smirks, pressing a finger to her lips. "It's all very hush-hush, Karkat. It's not something that we discuss in such unsecured locations. I'm afraid that her eyes come with ears, too. I'd love to fill you all in on it. Back at our headquarters, of course. I think you'll want to come. There's someone there who's  _very_ eager to meet you, Karkat." The look on her face says that she is very much enjoying this situation and, without waiting for a response from Karkat, she turns to Kanaya. "Do you happen to have an unoccupied bed for me to stay the night in?" She questions with a smile.

Kanaya immediately nods, her cheeks turning a light shade of red. She still won't make eye-contact with Rose, but it's an improvement. "Yes, I do. Jane- I mean, Jade!- she doesn't use her bed. She shares one with John. You can use hers, if you would like?" You roll your eyes a little bit. You aren't sure if Kanaya is this flustered because there's an actual princess right in front of her, or because it's Rose and they have this weird… thing.

"Huh." Rose taps her chin, pretending to think about it. "That will suit me just fine. I think that I'll take you up on your offer." She makes a flourishing gesture with her arms. "Lead the way." That same  _purr_ is back in her voice, and Kanaya can only manage a nod, mutely heading out the door. Rose follows her, the door closing behind her with a soft click, and the room is silent again.

No one is really sure what to say for a moment, but then Sollux turns to you. "So." He raises an eyebrow. "Do you have any idea what the  _fuck_ just happened there, your highness?" You wonder if he finds you being the prince to be weird. Your father never admitted to you being his son in front of other people.

You shake your head. "No fucking clue. I can safely say that I'm just as lost as the rest of you." And, somehow, you think that that's going to become a very familiar feeling in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the short chapter. The next one will be much longer, I promise.


	21. The Lives You'd Love To Lead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm two quarters and a heart down,  
> and I don't want to forget how your voice sounds.  
> These words are all I have, so I'll write them  
> so you need them just to get by.

Getting dressed in the morning is a hassle. Not only are you too tired to function properly, but you have to let Karkat dress you. It's not too bad. He changes your bandages, and he's gentle with you. There's that same guilt in his eyes from before, so you guess that he's worried about hurting you further. You tried to show him that you could get dressed yourself, but Karkat insisted that he didn't want to risk it. He got Terezi to back him up on it since she's apparently some sort of healer, and then Rose told you to just let him help you out, so you begrudgingly agreed.

You think that maybe you're just imagining things, but Karkat seems to be… staring as he dresses you. It feels weird to be undressed in front of your friend. It was never a big deal when servants had to bathe you or take measurements for a new robe, but this is different. Karkat is your friend. You  _care_ about what he thinks about you. And the look on his face as he rakes over your body… it's impossible to tell what he's thinking. If he thinks that you're too skinny or too pale. You know that both of those things are true, but you aren't sure if Karkat hates that about you or not. You don't even know why he would care about your body at all, but you want to know what he thinks anyway.

He doesn't bother averting his gaze. Karkat stares freely, helping you to get dressed quickly. It might just be you, but it feels… awkward. Especially when you have to change your undergarments. The good part is that it doesn't last long. Five minutes, tops, and Karkat is finished. You think about it for a while afterward, though. You aren't sure why, exactly. Maybe you should just stop. It isn't as if it's all that important. It isn't as if his hands against your bare skin felt good or anything…

You've been told that you're going to leave around noon and make it to Rose's "base" in two days time. She brought her own wagon, and plus the one that Vriska apparently has means that the trip shouldn't be too crowded. Which is good news, because you will be taking up a lot of space by laying down. Terezi seems to think that she's all knowing when it comes to what's best for you, because she's told you that you're lucky she's letting you move at all.

"Alright." Karkat hands you your shades, which you slip on gratefully. If you're going to be out in the sun, then you don't want to be blinded. "Are you sure that we can actually trust this sister of yours?" He raises an eyebrow at you. "You haven't seen her in years, and her explanations are vague, at best."

You don't hesitate to nod. Sure, Rose isn't being all that cooperative, but you know her. You know that look in her eyes, the tone she uses when she's dodging questions, and you can tell when she has good intentions. "I'm sure." You insist. "We can trust Rose." You pointedly ignore the doubt twitching in the corner of your mind.

Karkat doesn't look convinced - and you don't blame him - but he nods anyway. "Okay." He says carefully. "I'll go get John and we can help you outside and into the wagon." You force yourself to swallow your protests as he leaves. You hate feeling like such a liability, but you don't waste time arguing. You doubt that leaving you behind is an option, even if it's the logical thing to do. You're just going to have to get used to being an inconvenience.

Your thoughts of self-loathing are cut off when Karkat reappears with John. Again, your thoughts go to Equius. He's pretty strong. Why doesn't Karkat just ask for his help? But you don't ask. You just let John and Karkat lift you up, helping you walk. The good news is that you're on the first floor, so you don't have to go through the trial of stairs just yet.

You have to squint your eyes against the sun, even with your shades on. Natural sunlight has never been something that you liked. It doesn't go well with your skin, or your eyes. It's just all around bad. But it doesn't really matter, you suppose - the wagons are parked close to the inn, so you let yourself be helped into the shade.

You sit alone for a while, watching out of the back as people come and go from each wagon, packing things and checking on others until, finally, everyone agrees that they're ready to go. John, Jade, and Karkat ride with you, with Rose driving and leading the way, of course. Vriska, Terezi, Sollux, Kanaya, and Nepeta get the other wagon. You almost forgot about Nepeta entirely. She's just been so unnaturally quiet recently. You wonder why. Maybe it has something to do with Equius not being here? The more you think about it, the more you think that's the case, but you're not going to ask. And if you're honest with yourself, it's because you're afraid of the answer.

"So, Dave." John begins not two minutes into the trip. You don't mind, letting the tarp fall closed as you turn to face him, signaling that he has your attention. "What's it like living in the castle?" He asks, genuine interest in his voice. His eyes are wide with excitement, and you can't help but smile. Growing up in the lap of luxury doesn't seem like a big thing to you anymore, but you must have forgotten at some point how many commoners like John and Jade have dreamed about noble life.

You think about your answer for a moment. It has to be honest. "Boring." You say after a moment. "I didn't get to do much alone. Bathing, getting dressed, eating. Sleeping was an exception. But guards were always doing their rounds nearby, so it's not like I was ever really isolated or anything. The idea sounds good on paper - having more money than you know what to do with and servants to cater to your every whim - but I never really liked it. All I was allowed to do was read and study. Study and read. Had to be ready to be king one day, you know? It was nice, I guess. I never had to worry about food or where I was going to sleep. But I never really had to worry about  _anything_. At all. Mostly, it was just dull." You smile a little. "I guess that's partly why I liked sneaking out so much."

You stop abruptly, frowning as you realize that you had just been rambling. You look to John, anxious, but he isn't upset. Actually, he's smiling. You don't get a lot of time to process this before he's wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. It hurts, but you hardly notice. The important thing is that this is  _John_ hugging you - he's smiling into your shoulder, chuckling a little bit. "I'm glad that Jade and I could be an escape for you." He mutters.

And you wonder if he's remembering the same thing that you are. A little boy who looks lost, and the boy with the big blue eyes who found him.

You couldn't keep your smile down if you wanted to. You reach up, hugging him back just as tightly. You tell yourself to enjoy it. It's selfish, and you know that, but this is all you have of him. You know that he can never love you back, so you take your indulgences when you can get them.

In the heat of the moment, you don't notice the way Karkat bites his lip and has to look away.

When John pulls back, you have to quickly and forcefully push away the thought that  _it's too soon_. You want to hold him for so much longer, but you know that you can't, so you just let your arms fall to your side. "I'm glad, too." You smile at him. You notice Jade smiling from where she's curled up in on herself in the corner, but she decides not to interrupt. Why, you aren't sure, but you appreciate it.

"I do kind of want to know some other things, though." John says almost hesitantly. "I want to know, like, what did your bed feel like? What does the food taste like? How many servants have you had waiting on you at one time? What's the most expensive thing you own? What's-"

Laughter from the front of the wagon cuts him off, Rose chortling away as she keeps her gaze forward on the dirt road. "One at a time, please, John." She says good-naturedly. "He's still injured, remember? Go easy on him. Although, I don't know about Dave, but to answer your questions, in order…" She tilts her head to the side, humming in thought. "The beds feel like slightly more expensive hay, the food is so rich sometimes that I can hardly eat it, 16 servants at once to help me prepare for meeting my ex-fiance, and the most expensive thing I own is… oh, I want to say a crystal fixture for my bedroom that cost about a million gold or more."

John frowns for a moment as he processes this. "That sounds kind of awesome, actually." He says with a smile.

Rose nods. "I guess it was. I didn't really notice until after I left, though. I didn't have anything to compare it to until a few years ago. But noble life is very nice, yes. I think that you would like it, John." The faintest hint of a smile tugs at her lips. "Maybe you'll even get to try it out one day for yourself."

The idea is absolutely delightful to John, but you're worried about where Rose is going with this, exactly. She looks like she's implying something, but you have no idea what that could be. You decide that it's not important.

"Hey, Dave?" Jade looks over at you, frowning ever-so-slightly. "Princes have to marry princesses, right?"

You go to nod, and then catch yourself, shaking your head instead. "Not necessarily." You correct her. "The way my mom explained it was that the lowest rank I could marry is the daughter of a Duke. I wasn't actually listening very well, so I could be wrong, but there are exceptions. A noble girl who can bring wealth, power, an end to a non-beneficial disagreement, land, or anything else that my parents think is "worthwhile" is someone that I could potentially be forced into marrying one day." You explain. You sound like a textbook, but that's because you're doing your best to quote what you were told directly. "Of course, a princess is preferred. But there are only six other countries, so it's not like I have a whole lot of options." You incline your head towards Rose. "My darling sister over here, for example, was wed to a noble man. Or, well, she was  _supposed_ to be, but I guess she ran away because she just wasn't up for all of that relationship drama. Sure, the marriage goes fine, but the next day he's cheating on you with a wealthy baroness, and you have to battle her to the death to reclaim your honor." A shake of your head, and you sigh. "Good thing that Rose was smart enough to just skip all that nonsense and get right to the bitter divorce."

Your little rant earns a chuckle from Jade, and you allow yourself to smile. She's been looking so down, and you have no idea why, but you want desperately to cheer her up. You care deeply for her, even if it's… not in the way she wants.

With a smile, Rose shakes her head at you, sighing. "I hate to admit it, but Dave is right." She says. "Although, if there are no options deemed suitable, our parents could have also arranged us to marry each other." She remarks, tapping her chin in thought. You, Jade, and John, all have matching looks of disgust on your faces. Karkat doesn't look like he's even listening to the conversation. "A most… unpleasant option, I'll admit." Rose laughs softly. "Luckily, very unlikely. I don't think that there has ever been a case of someone having absolutely no options for marriage."

"That's a relief." John sighs, and he looks like he means it. You have to agree with the sentiment.

The wagon falls silent, the conversation apparently over. You don't mind the silence. You want to look outside and watch the scenery, but Rose said something about remaining inconspicuous. Even now, as she drives the carriage, her hair is covered with a shawl, and she has a scarf wrapped around the bottom half of her face. It's probably hot as hell, but you don't see her sweating. Maybe that was something they taught noble girls at a young age:  _How To Not Sweat And Remain Perfectly Composed Under Literally Any Conditions 101._

You tolerate the silence for about seven minutes before you give up and scoot over to the other side of the wagon. Karkat's head snaps up with surprising speed the second you move, like he was just itching for you to try moving so that he could reprimand you for it. He doesn't say anything though, just watches as you move over and position yourself to be sitting next to him.

"Hey." You say to get his attention. All you get is a grunt in recognition. He doesn't bother using words to greet you. You're sitting close to him, to the point that his shoulder is just barely brushing yours. He's warm, and when you go to lean on him, he tenses, like he wants to move away. But he doesn't, relaxing just a little bit. You don't ask what has him so on edge. It's kind of obvious. "So, I couldn't help but notice that you're surprisingly calm about all of this." You state conversationally. "I mean, you almost killed me, found out that I was secretly royalty behind your back the whole time, and your whole life has been turned upside down. Call me crazy, but I was expecting, well… a reaction of some kind."

Karkat barks out a laugh, loud and sarcastic, and shakes his head. "Oh, believe me. I had a perfectly over dramatic reaction." He rolls his eyes. "You were out for two days, remember? That was plenty of time for me to properly have a mental breakdown, cry, scream, curse God and the universe for everything, wallow in self-pity and feel every negative emotion under the sun, and leave myself with just enough time to piece my mangled sanity back together in time for you to wake up!" He says all of this in one breath, and he ends it with a huff, trying to cover up the deep breath he takes.

You blink in surprise. "Wow." You say. "All of that for lil' ol' me, huh?" You force an awkward laugh, but it quickly dwindles to nothing when you see the look on Karkat's face. His expression makes your stomach clench, and you have to fight to not look away. "Uh, Karkat…?"

He shakes his head, and forces his gaze away from yours. "Forget it, Dave." Karkat mutters, and you pretend not to be hurt when he puts three very obvious inches of space between the two of you. "Just be satisfied with the knowledge that I had a suitable reaction, okay?" You want to press for details, ask him if he really is okay, but Karkat speaks up before you can. "Hey, Rose, where exactly are we going? And when are we going to get there?"

As if she wasn't perfectly aware of the awkward conversation you were just having, Rose politely replies, "We're going to a town just a ways north of here. We'll stop when night falls to camp out, and depending on when we leave the following morning, we should reach our base at some point before noon."

Karkat considers this for a moment, then nods. "Yeah, alright." He sighs, sinking further down until only his shoulders are propped up against the wagon wall, the rest of his body splayed out in front of him. "It's not like I have much say in the matter…" He shifts his attention over to you, and his gaze hardens. "Dave, you should be getting some rest. We won't be there for a while, so get some of that sleep that you're missing out on right now."

You start to protest, but Karkat is apparently having none of that today. He sits up a little straighter, and with surprising gentleness, maneuvers you to be lying on your back. What has you a little unsure is the fact that Karkat is also holding your head in his lap. You could have sworn that he didn't want to touch, talk, or be near you at all, and you were going to try talking to him about it, but this has you even more confused than before. Karkat's hand finds its way to your hair, petting you just like before, back in the apartment room. You're not all that tired, but you decide that you might as well humor Karkat, and let your eyes close.

Had your eyes been open, you might have noticed the adoration on Karkat's face as he lulled you to sleep. But your eyelids remain shut, and in just a few minutes, you're asleep.

* * *

_The banquet table is outlandishly long._

_It stretches out in front of you and into the horizon. Every seat is filled. You get the feeling that the end of the table is always going to be out of reach no matter how far you walk. You don't bother testing that little theory of yours. You're too busy enjoying yourself._

_The steady buzz of conversation fills the air as everyone talks. The buzz fills your head and numbs your judgment. Everything is fuzzy but you aren't worried. The faces around you are familiar and you trust them. The people are less clear the further away they're sitting. Rose is right next to you and her voice is sweet like syrup and sticky in your head. It rings in your ears and the combination of Jade's voice and John's laughter turns the conversation into something of a melody. You feel yourself getting tired and your eyes are starting to close. You can't let yourself sleep though. That would be suicide. You need to remain alert and vigilant. Just because you can see their faces doesn't mean that you can trust them._

_But maybe you'll let your eyes close for just a moment…_

_You slump forward in your seat and you heavy eyes close for a second or two. Not near long enough. The sound of a chair scraping the floor jerks you back to alertness._

_"In all fairness you highness…" You don't recognize who's speaking. Are they familiar maybe? You blink to try and clear the fuzziness around their features. It doesn't work. The sword at their hip is surprisingly clear to see. Its sharpness against the increasingly blurry world makes your head spin. "The meal is lovely but I'm afraid that I can't force myself through this any longer." Their voice lacks the hypnotic quality of the others. It's harsh and brittle in your ears and makes your mouth taste of copper blood._

_No one lifts a finger to stop them. Including you. You sit perched on your throne like a good little puppet as they leap on top of the table and dart towards you. Their sword is a death sentence. But you can't find it in yourself to lift a finger to stop them. You feel surprisingly calm. This is alright. You're okay with this._

_You wince when the sound of metal on metal interrupts your serenity. Your defender is easily recognizable. He isn't fuzzy like the others surrounding you. They had since gone back to their meal and conversation and their laughter is the symphony to the fight in front of you._

_"Dave!" The second shouts at you without bothering to turn his head away from your attacker. "You need to run! I can't keep them here forever!"_

_You can't move. You can't breathe. Everything is frozen around you as it quickly becomes clear which of the two is the better fighter. You need to move. You need to get up there and do something before your attacker wins. It won't be much longer. His skill is obvious and even admirable._

_The most you get is a twitch of the finger, and you're left to fume silently at yourself for another four, achingly long seconds. Your defender slips up. He makes a mistake. The opening he leaves is obvious. And if it's obvious to you then your attacker can no doubt see it as well. Your eyes widen. You're screaming at yourself to just_ move  _already but you can't. You can't move. You're useless useless useless and it's your fault that-_

_You jerk forward and his name is on the tip of your lips. "Karkat!" You force out. It hurts to do and leaves your throat rasping and feeling torn. You feel panic grip your heart so tight that you honest to God forget how to breathe for a moment. There's not enough time not enough time not enough time. The tip of your attacker's sword is pressed right between Karkat's lungs_

when you wake up, gasping and panting for air as you scramble to reorient yourself with reality. You're sweaty, overheated, and terribly, terribly confused. It takes you a moment to recognize where you are. Rose's wagon. Right. It's okay. You're okay. You let out a shaky breath, trying to calm your pounding heart. It was just a dream. There's no reason to worry about-

Oh fuck, where is Karkat-?

You look around the little space frantically and are incredibly relieved to find Karkat sleeping not far from you. It's probably around midnight, so there isn't much light, especially under the tarp, but you recognize enough of him to know that it's Karkat. You sigh, and relax, closing your eyes and laying back down properly. Everything is okay. You're okay. Karkat is okay. There's no faceless, nameless person trying to kill you.

Your eyes open again to the sound of a quill scratching along parchment. You don't know how you didn't hear it before - maybe you were too panicked - but now that you've calmed down, the sound is insistent and easy to hear. You frown, puzzled, and twist over onto your stomach. You realize that it's entirely too bright, given the hour and where you are. The source of the light only takes a moment for you to locate. It's flickering, so you piece together that it must be a candle and inch your way over to the wagon opening. It doesn't do wonders for that prominent wound in your stomach, but whatever. You're too tired to care, and this is the only form of mobility that you have at the moment.

You push the tarp out of the way, and blink a few times to adjust to the unguarded light. Fuck, you left your shades back where you were sleeping, didn't you? Oh, well.

The candle that is casting the light in question is sitting upon a stump not far from where both of the wagons have been parked for the night. Sollux is hunched over it, on his knees on the ground and using the stump as a sort of table to write on. You watch for a moment, then blink and let out a sigh. "Hey." You say, and it seems to startle him, because he jumps a little and the speed that his head whips around so that he can look at you has got to hurt his neck.

"Oh, shit." Sollux says before he can stop himself. You raise a questioning eyebrow, nodding towards the paper. Talking is too much effort. You're too cool for shit like that. He rolls his eyes, setting his quill away in the little container of ink that he has set on the stump. "I'm doing what Vriska said." He explains with an irritated huff. "Writing home so that they won't worry about me. Because we're apparently not allowed to leave anytime soon." Sollux scoffs. You chuckle, and that seems to break the ice a little, because he smiles faintly. "Now, c'mon,  _your highness_." This time, your title sounds less sarcastic and more like an affectionate nickname. It's still pretty sarcastic, though. Sollux gets to his feet, making a shooing motion at you. "Get back to bed. You need to rest up if you want to heal anytime soon. Or don't. I'm not in charge of carrying you."

You sigh heavily, long and drawn out and sarcastic. "Sure thing,  _mom_." You drawl, ducking your head to avoid when Sollux swats at you.

"I've always wanted to tell a member of the royal family to go fuck themselves." He sighs wistfully, then refocuses on you, smiling. "Go fuck yourself."

You feel like you should be offended, but instead, all that does is make your grin widen. "How about a compromise?" You suggest. "Instead, I'll go back to sleep. That work for you?"

Sollux rubs his chin, studying you while he pretends to think about it. "Yeah, alright." He sighs finally. "But it better be a deep sleep. And don't snore. Half of the people in this fucking troop of ours snore, and I don't think I can take much more of that."

You nod, and scoot back deeper into the wagon, giving Sollux a mock little solute. "Sure thing." You say as seriously as you can manage. Which, considering your smile, isn't all that serious. "You won't hear a peep from me." You promise.

"I'll hold you to that." Sollux says seriously, closing the tarp behind you, and you shuffle back to your little bed area, which just consists of a blanket rolled out over the wooden floor. You didn't fall asleep on that. Karkat must have set it up for you. He's pretty nice like that.

You lay back down, listening to Sollux's footsteps as he returns to the stump. The sound of writing returns, and you let the soft noise lull you to sleep. A few minutes later, it stops and the candle is blown out, but you don't notice. You're already out cold. And, this time, your sleep is dreamless.

* * *

"What gives?" John frowns at Terezi, not-so-subtly shifting away from her as she climbs into the back of the wagon. You see that she has all of her belongings on her, and that Karkat's are nowhere to be found. You don't like it, and you frown. "I know you're blind, but I also know that you know that I know that you know this isn't your wagon, so get out."

Terezi gasps as if insulted, but the grin on her face makes that hard to believe. "Why, Jonathan!" She keeps talking, ignoring John's attempts to point out that his name is just "John" and isn't actually short for anything. "I can't believe you think that I would make such a simple-minded mistake! For today's purposes, I am riding in this wagon, as a favor to our mutual pal, Karkat."

You and John both seemed surprised by the news, but Rose just shrugs. "Alright, then." She takes hold of the reigns, snapping them to get the horses to start forward. Too late to change seats now.

"Wait, why did Karkat ask to move seats?" You ask Terezi, frowning. Come to think of it, he has been acting… odd lately. He's been spending as much time as possible away from you, and you're having trouble figuring out why. You thought that the awkward "sorry for stabbing you" thing was cleared up and that both of you had moved past it.

In reply, Terezi shrugs. "I don't ask questions. He asked me to, so I did. For a small fee, of course." She says with a grin.

This finally seems to get Jade's attention, and she looks up from where she was frowning at the wooden floor, frowning at Terezi instead. "You made Karkat pay to switch wagons with you?" She sounds surprised. You, honestly, are not.

"Of course not!" Terezi snaps indignantly. "I have people pay with  _information and secrets_. What the hell would I even do with coins? They're dull and plain. But  _information_." She cackles, a sort of laugh that sends shivers down your spine. "Now, that's a currency that's universal, and lasts even once you spend it."

That's… different, you suppose. But you admit. Your interest has peeked. "What did he tell you?" You ask.

Somehow, impossibly, Terezi's grin widens. "I can't tell you." She says smoothly. "Customer confidentiality. Unless… you have something interesting you'd like to offer up in exchange?" She leans in close to you, and you back up on impulse, your cheeks filling in red.

 _John_ , your mind supplies automatically, and as if Terezi can tell what you're thinking, she sighs and leans back again. "No, I suppose you wouldn't. Nothing in that head of yours that I don't already know, huh, Dave?"

You swallow hard, nodding your agreement. "Yeah." You say, but through the sound of blood rushing through your ears, your voice sounds like someone else's. "Nothing at all."

* * *

It's impossible to tell, at first, that you've arrived anywhere of importance, let alone that you had made it to the base for some kind of rebellion.

But Rose brings the horses to a halt in the middle of nowhere. You see some trees off in the distance, some rocks, a lot of dirt… there are no buildings for miles, though. Steam is rising in the distance, but Rose doesn't seem concerned, so you ignore it for the most part. It might be a hot spring or geyser of some kind. If that's the case, then you're further north than you first thought.

"Alright. Everyone out." Rose commands, jumping off the wagon and coming around back to help with the supplies.

Everyone moves to follow her example, but the confusion is shared by all of you. You don't have much of your own stuff, but you gather up what you do have and wait for someone to help you walk. John offers to let you lean on him, with Jade supporting your other side when you walk, and your appreciation that the both of them are here shoots up to astronomical levels. You're stubborn enough that you could probably walk by yourself, but everyone else keeps insisting that you need to take it easy and accept help. Literally, all of your friends have been telling you that. The only exception is Nepeta. The realization is surprising, but you haven't actually heard her say a single word the entire time you've been awake. You frown. Note to self: corner Nepeta and get her to talk later.

"Okay. This is it." With a largely exaggerated flourish, she motions to the empty and barren plain surrounding all of you. You can see the horizon in the distance, and it's just as dry as where you are now. If it wasn't for the few trees here and there and the occasional tufts of grass, you would swear that Rose brought you to a desert. There are just rocks. Everywhere. Rocks and dirt and some bigger rocks. There's a look in Rose's eyes that reassures you, though; an amused twinkle that shines brighter the longer everyone stands looking around, confused.

Finally, Terezi sighs and gives Vriska a nudge in the side. "Correct me if I'm smelling this all wrong," she begins dryly, "but is there some sort of structure I'm not seeing her? A fortress? Castle? Even a tipi would be welcome."

Vriska just sort of stares blankly at Terezi, and you grimace. Still upset about the night before, then. You can't say that you're surprised.

"Yeah." Sollux adds in, and you silently thank him for saving this conversation from an awkward silence. "The only things here are rocks, bigger rocks, a few smaller rocks, and - oh look!" He gestures around him. "A metric assload of dirt absolutely  _everywhere_."

"Now, that  _is_ a good point." The tone in Rose's voice is so sarcastic that it's impressive. "I must be off my rocker. Or, maybe you lot didn't give this place the once-over that it deserves." And with that, she sets her foot on the side of a large rock and pushes it away with ease. Below it, a hole drops down into blackness, and a rope ladder tied into the wall just a few inches below where the hole begins extends into the nothing.

You have to admit. You're impressed.

"Well, that's new." Sollux blinks in surprise. "Fuck. Okay, then. Ladies first." He gives Karkat a nudge forward, and the shorter male scowls, elbowing Sollux hard enough to leave a mark.

"You're fucking hilarious." He snaps. "Here, you big baby. Move over. I'll go first." Karkat gets one foot on the rung, lowering himself over the edge and peering up at your little group. His front is convincing, but you can see the nervousness in his eyes. "So, uh, is there any light down there at all?" He directs this question to Rose.

To accompany her reply, she offers a grin. "You'll see it when you get down there, Karkat. Trust me on this one." Rose kneels down and flicks him in the forehead. You wonder how long it's been since she's had this many people to so freely mess with. "I would get going if I were you. Torches can't burn forever. And it is  _awfully_ dark down there."

Karkat glares at her, but huffs out a sigh and starts moving down, muttering curses all the while. When he gets far enough that you can't see him anymore, Rose turns to the rest of you. "Alright, then. Who wants to go next?"

In the end, getting down to this super secret base takes a few minutes. Nepeta ends up going second, then Terezi, tailed by Vriska, then Sollux. Kanaya lags a little behind, hesitating and looking to Rose for direction. But she goes down when your sister gestures for her to do so, and you are impressed by how many bags she can lug down with her without falling. You guess that not everyone wanted to bother with their stuff. Good thing Kanaya got it for them. Both John and Jade offer to help you down, but Rose insists that she can handle you herself. It makes you happy that they offered, though. You love them both so much that it hurts to think about it most of the time. While you would prefer to be dating John over Jade, you can't imagine your life without either of them.

You quickly discover that ladders are terrible.

By the time Rose helps you reach the bottom, you've worked up a sweat and your abdomen is throbbing with protest. Not to mention, Rose has to move the rock back into place behind the two of you, so even with your shades pushed up and your over-sensitive eyes trying their damnedest, you can't see anything.

You ignore the stiffness in your joints and the weariness in your body, letting Rose help you down the path. Once you had reached the bottom of the ladder, it wasn't hard to see where you were supposed to be going. There was a long tunnel, stretching into the earth, and at the end of it, a torch was burning just bright enough for you to see. You lean on Rose for support as you head towards it, one hand trailing along the wall. You feel the need to apologize for your deficiencies, but you hold your tongue. You know already that Rose wouldn't accept an apology like that. But you really do feel useless. And you regret that the people you hold dear are stuck with you.

It takes what feels like an hour to reach the end of the tunnel, and you desperately want a nap by the time you're done. You don't let yourself ask for it, though. You let Rose turn you around the corner and push open the simple wooden door waiting for you both, and you're thankful that there isn't a lot more to walk. On the other side of the door is what appear to be a sitting room with fucking  _chairs_ and you're so relieved that you could cry. They're wooden and stiff and probably not very comfortable, but you would sit on the ground if it wouldn't hurt horribly to get back up. You don't even need to ask Rose to set you down - she just moves you over to the empty chair next to Jade and helps you sit. Everything is quiet. You guess that you're all waiting, but for what, you aren't sure.

The room itself is sparse of anything noteworthy. There are enough chairs to sit all of you, all of them wooden replicas of each other and just as uncomfortable. The walls and the ceiling have been paneled with wood, but the ground is dirt, packed tight enough that the legs of your chair don't sink into it. There are only two doors, one of which leads back to the rope ladder, and the other which leads… well, you don't know where.

It's this second door that Rose approaches. Every eye in the room is on her, and she knocks politely on the wood. "Before you ask me for a password," she says with a smile, but a warning hint behind her words, "I already know that we don't have one, and I'll have you reported if you don't let me in immediately."

There's a pause, and then the door unlocks from the other side and creaks open. "Oh, you're no fun, Rose." A girl that can't be much younger than you answers, looking irritated.

Rose rolls her eyes, turning to gesture at the room behind her. "I know. I've stuck my stick permanently in the mud and then sat on it for so long that it's firmly planted up my ass. We've been over this, Dakota, now be a dear and have these bags here taken to the guest rooms. The Violet Wing, if you would be so kind." The smile she gives the girl is sticky sweet, and Dakota doesn't reply, huffing in irritation but stepping to the side so that Rose can pass.

With a chuckle, she gestures for all of you to follow. "Leave your things." Rose says when Kanaya moves to pick up her bags. "Dakota here will be carrying everything to your temporary rooms. You can sort out what bag belongs to who once we get there, and you can also decide who you want to room with, but for now, we have someone important to be seeing."

That settled, your little group uncertainly moves forward. You lag a little behind, because you have to lean on John for help, but you appreciate that he lets you move at your own pace. The girl who answered the door seems unimpressed with all of you, waving your group along impatiently before entering the room herself and beginning to gather the bags. You feel bad that an itty-bitty thing like her has to carry all of that stuff alone, but she doesn't protest or seem to mind, so you let it be and keep walking.

This new hallway is an improvement from the first one. The walls have been lined with thin slabs of stone, light and easy to place, but pleasing to the eye, and they keep bugs out. It's much brighter here than it was before, and a torch lies on either wall every ten feet. It's a little off-putting that the ceiling is dirt, but the top of the hallway is rounded out, and you understand why they didn't want to try applying something flat to something that's curved.

Dozens of doors lead into the hallway, and you see a few people leaving them. From what you can tell based on the three seconds you got to peek inside, these are bedrooms. The people don't pay you any attention whatsoever. They just keep walking, and if they didn't take great care to avoid bumping into any of you, you would think that you were invisible.

"This is the Red Wing." Rose begins with a very tour-guide-like voice, gesturing around. "This wing connects to the main hall, which itself connects to three other bedroom wings. There are other wings that aren't for sleeping, but you'll be seeing them later. I'm not entirely sure but I want to say that we have, oh, about a hundred bedrooms in total. Each room can fit three people. Recently, we've had to start doubling up rooms as we get new recruits. I think that there's about… 123 people staying in the regular rooms. We do have a separate wing for more important members. I hope you understand that I'm not allowed to show it to you just yet." She turns to look over her shoulder at you all, smiling apologetically. "The other wings are the Violet Wing, the Blue Wing, and the Yellow Wing. Those are all varying degrees of, well, "niceness" is a way you could say it. The Red Wing has the bare necessities - a bed with a pillow and blanket, a desk, and a dresser. The Violet Wing comes with stone walls instead of dirt, a curtain over the ceiling so that dirt doesn't fall on you, and wooden flooring. They also have a small fireplace that funnels out on the surface for when it gets cold. I'm staying in a violet room, and that's where I'm having all of your things delivered to."

The hallway abruptly splits into a "T" up ahead, and the hallway this one leads into is much more spacious than the one you're in now. The ceiling is twice as high, and your group would have to stand shoulder-to-shoulder to take up the whole width of it. You see that the archway to the hallway you just left is painted red around the edges. The hall across from it has a yellow edge, and you assume that the violet and blue wings respectively are a little further down. Everything else seems to be to your left. To the right, the hallway abruptly ends about fifteen feet down, with a jagged and very solid dirt wall signaling the end of the hall. It looks like it was dug out, and you feel tired just thinking about how long it took to do all of this.

Rose heads to the left, and you don't see any more doors or archways into new hallways until she stops outside of a small little wooden door that you honestly didn't even notice upon first glance. It lies directly between two torches, so it's been cast in shadow, and it's more sunken into the wall than most of the other doors, making it practically invisible to anyone that isn't paying attention.

"This is the conference room." Rose's voice is quiet, and you're aware of the sudden and suffocating silence. It's unnaturally quiet, even compared to the relative slowness of the rest of this base. You don't make a sound. You just listen to her. "This is where our leader discusses movements with her tacticians and strategists and plans things that we can do to stop  _her_ and recruit more people. This isn't the usual, but… our founder wanted to personally greet all of you, so you'll be seeing her now." For some reason, Rose smirks. "I think you'll find that she knows you better than you thought."

The door doesn't appear to have a lock, and Rose pulls it open easily. "Take a seat at the conference table." She says, holding the door open and ushering you all inside. You take a good look around once you get into the room, and you're impressed. You don't know how deep you are underground, but the ceiling is so high that you think the surface is just a foot away. There are support beams all over the place, and the ceiling looks especially reinforced here. The itty-bitty door you came in really doesn't do this place justice. It's amazing how well-lit it is, and you look up to see a large and very cheaply-made chandelier hanging from the ceiling, lit with candles and lanterns. You wonder how they keep that burning. The room is dominated by a large, circular table in the very center of the floor. It's made of polished wood, and surprisingly smooth to the touch. You count about twenty chairs encircling it, and you take a seat at the one closest to the door. John follows suit, then Jade, and Karkat, until everyone except Vriska is sitting.

She doesn't seem as impressed as you are, her arms crossed and her lips pressed into a thin, displeased line. "You're all idiots." Vriska remarks, her glare sweeping across the room as she makes eye contact with each and every one of you. "Is your trust really this easily bought? I don't see any 'founder' in here, and we didn't even  _know_ Rose until a few days ago."

You start to reply, but someone beats you to it.

"Smart." An unfamiliar voice says, stepping by Rose, who is still holding the door, and entering the room. "You're careful." A sigh. "That's more than I can say about your mother."

You see Vriska bristle, and she whirls around, teeth bared. If she had a weapon on her, you have no doubt that she would draw it. "You knew my mother?" She asks, but she sounds more challenging and angry than relieved.

The stranger steps out of the doorway and into the light, letting all of you get a good look at her. She had brown hair at some point, but age and stress has worn it white at the roots. It's a knotted and tangled mess, likely because she doesn't cut or brush it, if the way the tips of it brush her hips is any indication. Her wrinkles and lines and crow's feet are born of stress, not laughter. She looks frail, but there's a sort of energy about the short, strange woman in front of you. Her presence commands respect, and not a single person would think twice about giving it to her.

Something about her is familiar, but you can't imagine why.

"I knew your mother." The woman says. "We were friends. Once. But that was a long time ago. You look just like her, you know." She smiles, but it doesn't seem very happy to you. It's more of a sad fondness.

Rose lets the door close, coming over to stand next to the… well, organization founder, you're assuming. "Everyone," she gestures at the woman, "this is Disciple. Obviously, that's not her real name, but she is the founder of this little group her and my boss."

Disciple smiles, giving a little nod. "That's a way to put it, I suppose." She looks around your little group, and her smile falters. She turns to Rose, seeming confused. "Is he-?"

"Yes." Rose nods, and she turns to look at you. Or, rather, the person sitting next to you. "Karkat?" He looks over at the sound of his name, his back previously to Disciple. You wonder if he was paying the slightest bit of attention to what was just going on. It didn't seem like it.

Before he can reply, Disciple lets out this small gasp, covering her mouth with both hands as she stares at him. Karkat looks horribly confused, and for once, seems to be at a loss for words as Disciple approaches him. "Oh, Karkat…" She holds out a hand, as if to touch him, but stops herself at the last moment as tears prick her eyes. "You look… my, how you've grown. You're the spitting image of your father."

Karkat tenses, and you can see the million questions he wants to ask reflected in his eyes, but before he can ask any of them, Disciple has enveloped him in a hug. Her small frame shakes with the force of her sobs as she weeps into Karkat's shoulder. Awkwardly, he reaches his arms up to hug her back, giving Rose a bewildered look.

He doesn't need to ask. Rose can just tell sometimes, and she shrugs, smiling. "Karkat, meet Disciple. Or, more accurately," her smile widens, "meet your mother."


	22. Act 2 Intermission 1: Just One Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I want to teach you a lesson  
> in the worst kind of way.  
> Still, I'd trade all my tomorrows,  
> for just one yesterday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for a large age gap romance in this chapter. (Please don't be mad at me - my friend wanted it and it worked.)

**"** Your highness." The baker bowed before your parents, his smile beaming and taking up almost his entire face. It was wide enough to almost completely drown out his bottle green eyes. "Thank you for granting us an audience with you."

Your dad gestured for the man to straighten back up, and he did, one arm automatically slipping around his wife's waist lovingly. Her stomach was swollen with her pregnancy, and there was no doubt in your mind that she would be giving birth before the month had reached its end. But you couldn't say that you really cared. "Your bakery is quite successful." Your dad remarked in his gruff voice. "We've heard nothing but good things about it."

This somehow made the man's grin stretch even wider. His cheeks must have hurt all the time. You decided that you didn't like it, and your own lips drooped down into a frown.

His wife gave a little chortling laugh, her cheeks reddening at the praise. "Yes, I suppose so. But being permitted to serve our treats to your majesties is an accomplishment in its own right."

They really knew how to kiss up, at least. You sighed in exasperation, but your mom nodded, gesturing them closer. "Why don't you show us what you've prepared? We're looking for a new royal baker. If this goes well, you could both have a very lucrative future." She explained.

The man nodded, hurrying to get their pastries from the cart they brought. A few minutes later, and two plates had been handed to your parents. He handed one to you last, kneeling down a little to be at your height. You were sitting on your father's right in a much smaller, but equally lavish throne, so you didn't fault him for having to do so. "Here you go, little one. I hope you like it." He said. You frowned deeper, but couldn't sense any animosity in his gesture or his words despite how hard you tried to find it. So you huffed, begrudgingly accepting the plate. "My name is Jake. What's yours?"

Why was he still talking to you? You wanted him to go away. His kind eyes and nice smile confused you, and you hated being confused. "Dirk." You said, and your eyes narrowed. "I don't like you." You never were one for dancing around the subject.

Jake laughed like you just told a hilarious joke, ruffling your hair affectionately. You bristled at the contact, flushing a deep, angry shade of red. You expected your parents to be upset that he would dare to touch you, but they were laughing too, already half-way through the slice of pie Jake had handed them. "Quite the charming young lad you have, your highness." Jake told your dad with a good-natured grin.

You tuned the rest of the conversation out, pouting in your chair and refusing to so much as look at the dessert Jake offered you. It didn't really matter. At the end of the day, it was decided.

Your name was Dirk Strider, and at the age of seven, Jake English became the royal baker and you hated him for it.

* * *

You didn't eat for two days.

Jake set every meal, introducing what had been prepared with that same annoying smile and those same eyes that made you inexplicably want to trust him.

So you did the rational thing and avoided showing up for meals completely. His food was good. Unrealistically good, even by your high standards. You didn't want to be subjected to it. You didn't want to admit that someone you loathed so much could have such skill in the kitchen. You knew that he couldn't and didn't prepare every dish himself, but all of the cooks were the same as before he was hired. Only the position of head chef had been changed. What he brought to the kitchen that wasn't there before, you weren't sure, but suddenly everything that came from the palace kitchens tasted like it was blessed by God.

You bit into one of his pancakes at breakfast before pushing away from the table and leaving. It took all of your strength to not bring your plate with you, but you were determined to ignore Jake. You didn't want to acknowledge him. You weren't sure why, but you didn't want him in your life.

Finally, on your third day, your mom had a servant drag you kicking and screaming from your room and set you at the expansive dining room table for breakfast. You pouted all throughout the meal, but you were too hungry by that point to keep up with the "not eating Jake's food" plan. It wasn't like it was unbearable, or anything. You ate deliberately, trying to find something wrong with the dish. It goes without saying that you failed miserably at that.

As soon as you had finished, you dropped your silverware and tried to get away from the table as fast as possible. Your parents let you go, but you had barely taken a step out of the room before a pair of strong arms had swept you off your feet.

"Hey-!" You shouted, only remembering to struggle a few seconds later, when the initial surprise faded. "Put me down right now!"

Jake sighed, holding you away from his body by your armpits. You scowled, turning red in shame at the demeaning position. He was holding you like you were a toddler, and not a very respectable one at that. Still, you were a prince, and he was technically one of your servants. So he set you down. His expression was wary, like he thought you'd try to make a break for it. You considered that, but the sooner you figured out what he wanted, the sooner you could be left alone. Instead of running, you crossed your arms up at him and raised an eyebrow, silently asking what he wanted.

"My Prince," Jake inclined his head towards you, addressing you with your formal title before continuing, "I can't help but notice that you seem to be avoiding your meals, and sulking around. Is something the matter?"

You couldn't tell if he was trying to be funny, or if he really was that stupid.

"I don't like you." You told him for the second time, your tone flat and your expression severe.

This time, Jake didn't laugh. He actually frowned, looking up at the ceiling and rubbing his chin as if pondering that prospect that  _someone might actually not like him_. Finally, he shrugged. "Alright." Your expression faltered. You blinked in surprise.  _What?_ "You don't have to like me, my Prince. But don't deny yourself food. I know how a growing boy needs his nourishment." He smiled at you, ruffling your hair yet again before walking off back into the kitchen.

You stood there for exactly three minutes before you remembered to be mad at him for touching you.

* * *

A week later, Jake's wife - Jane, or something - had to take a leave from work to go into labor.

A day after that, Jake asked to be excused for a few days, as well. The food was adequate without him, at best.

You told yourself that you didn't care. What did it matter to you if Jake was gone, except that you received decent meals? You didn't miss him. You had no reason to. You didn't even like the guy. You told yourself that you were just curious. That was all. You just wanted to know why he had to take a leave as well.

He came back a few days later, and you still hate yourself for how thoroughly you enjoyed the meal he set out that day. You couldn't help but notice how… hurt he looked. You weren't sure what the  _exact_ word for that look was, but he wasn't the same cheerful guy who had served you before his break.

Curiosity was the only emotion that compelled you to say after the meal was over. Definitely. No other emotions at work behind that decision.

"Hey." You tugged on the hem of Jake's shirt, stopping him before he could start clearing the table. He looked down at you, a little confused. You were glad. It was a relief to see an emotion on his face. He had been so… blank during the meal. No, that wasn't the right word either… "What's wrong? You look awful."

Jake forced this little laugh that you didn't believe for even an instant, "Oh, why, it's nothing, my Prince. You can just leave me to clean up and…" Your gaze hardened, and he trailed off, his confusion deepening. You glowered at him for a moment until, finally, Jake sighed. "Yes, I suppose that wasn't going to work. You're not much for acting your age, are you?"

You shook your head. It was about time that he got it. You may have been seven (turning eight soon), but you were far from being just a child. You didn't need him to shelter you from the big-bad world. You already knew plenty about it. At just seven, you were aware of three plots against your life, two nobles trying to bribe you to favor them, and at least five options for marriage. Growing up was something you did  _long_ before Jake - just not physically.

"Ah, well…" Jake shook his head. "I apologize for the mood, my Prince. My wife went into labor a few days ago, and… the baby was stillborn." He sighed, looking forlornly at his hands. "I let Jane squeeze my hand as hard as she wanted... Our two boys in the other room waiting for the good news… She had already delivered two. We didn't think that a third would be a problem, but… oh, it wasn't her fault, of course. The poor child came out unmoving. Not breathing. The look on the midwife's face as she held our little daughter…" He took a shaky breath, looking away from you, and it took you a moment to realize that he was quietly sobbing. "I'm sorry, prince, I just-" Jake quickly wiped his face clean, forcing a smile when he turned back to you, "begging your pardon, my Prince, I-"

"Dirk." You interrupted him before you could convince yourself not to.

"I…" Jake frowned, desperately confused as he frowned at you, "what?"

"My name is Dirk." You grimaced, visibly annoyed with having to elaborate. "I want you to call me Dirk. The title is something my parents insist on - not me." A lie, of course. But why was Jake suddenly worth the effort of dishonesty?

There was a pause from Jake, as he struggled to understand where you were going with that. "My Prince- I mean, Dirk-?" He was visibly uncomfortable with calling you by your name. Not that you cared. You just arched a brow, waiting for him to continue. "I am… flattered, but I thought you didn't like me?"

You nodded. "I don't.  _But_ ," You hurried to continue before he could interrupt, "I think that I could. Like you, I mean."

A smile tugged at the corner of Jake's mouth. He tried to suppress it for an instant, before giving up, smiling like he would before. "Thank you… Dirk." He said, and this time, your name sounded a little less awkward on his lips. A little more like it belonged there.

You fought to keep your own smile down. Unlike Jake, you actually succeeded. Because you didn't need to smile or like Jake.

But it seemed like you were going to be doing both of those things more often from now on.

* * *

Princely studies made it hard to spend time with Jake.

At the age of ten, your father began instilling upon you everything you needed to know to be a king someday. Already adept at sword fighting, your lessons with the captain of the guard were cut short to make room for your "more important" studies. Your father's words - not yours. You liked sword fighting. You liked sweating under the pounding sun and getting your frustrations out. But apparently, being ten years old meant that you now had the attention span required to sit through the dreadfully dull lessons.

You already had a pretty good attention span before your tenth birthday, but your father's stupid lessons  _really_ pushed it.

For three years now, Jake had been on your staff, and for three years, you hadn't liked him. Or, at least, that's what you told yourself. But you found yourself seeking him out when you needed comfort or someone to complain to. And he taught you how to properly prepare and cook bread at three in the morning to get your mind off of a nightmare. He smiled easily around you, and you were finding less and less reasons to dislike him. It was clear that he thought of you almost as his own son, but you… weren't entirely sure how you thought about him. It was complicated, at least to you. To him, you were just Dirk. Nothing complicated about it.

"You have two sons, don't you?" You asked offhandedly one day in the kitchen. He was hurrying around, checking dishes and offering advice to the cooks, and you had been told a million times not to be in here while they're preparing a meal, but like fuck were you going to listen to that. The cooks always seemed to do their best when you were watching, anyway.

Jake took a sample of some soup, thinking for a moment before offering, "try adding a pinch more rosemary," and turning to you. "Dirk." he sighed, already moving onto the next dish. It impressed the other cooks immensely that he was on a first-name basis with the prince, and their respect for him shot up to astronomical levels when you were around. Jake had said so himself. Really, you being here was nothing but helpful to him. His exasperation is completely unwarranted. "Yes, I do have two sons. But can't this wait? There are very influential nobles visiting today to talk to your parents about arranging the most beneficial marriage to both parties, and I would like for it to go well. Deciding your future wife is no simple matter, Dirk. Everything must be perfect." He sounded just like your parents, missing the roll of your eyes as he checked on the cake baking in the large brick oven.

If there was one thing that you definitely didn't care about, it was whatever fu-fu princess or noble that your parents chose for you to marry in a decade. The older you got, the more and more unappealing adulthood seemed.

"Is that how you think of me?" You asked before you could lose your nerve. "As a son?"

 _That_ finally got him to stop moving, and Jake froze in place for a moment before turning to look down at you. There was an odd look on his face. Something akin to pity, but not quite there. "Oh, Dirk…" He sighed, placing a hand on your head affectionately. "Of course. You mean so much to me." He smiled easily at you, ruffling your hair just because he  _knew_ that you hated that, before straightening back up and resuming his duties.

You hesitated to follow after him, before hurrying to catch up. Your question was an innocently curious one, and you had anticipated how he might answer for almost a month.

So you didn't understand why you felt so… disappointed.

* * *

"Hello!" The girl beamed at you, a bright smile on her face. "I'm Roxy! Nice to meet you!" She dropped into a curtsy, and when she straightened back up, you took her gloved hand and kissed it exactly like you were expected to do. You had done this a million times before, to hundreds of ladies just as "lovely" as she was.

But there was never such a potent sense of dread curling up in your stomach.

You found yourself wishing that Jake was here. He would be swarmed with work until dinner, though. Six years after your tenth birthday, and you were finally meeting your future wife. She was decided upon by your parents, obviously. The most you knew about her was her name, and her family's wealth and influence, that your parents had all but sang about. She was a nice enough choice, you thought. Pretty. Friendly. Obedient. Everything that you should want in a wife.

Despite this, you found your mind wandering as your parents discussed wedding details with hers, and Roxy went on about something that you had successfully tuned out. Her eyes were a nice shade of pink. You liked the color, but you quickly replaced them in your mind with green ones, the color of fresh grass. With those eyes came the comforting scent of bread and flour, washing over you and relaxing you, like it always did. You imagined darker skin, shorter, chestnut hair with bangs that always hung in front of her eyes, and you had to resist the urge to brush it away. Her elaborate dress was reimagined as a simple tunic and men's pants, you let her be taller, until Roxy was unrecognizable. But maybe unrecognizable was the wrong word.

Because you knew exactly who she was.

Mentally, you cursed and berated yourself, violently tearing your subconscious away from that ridiculous fantasy. Fuck. Why were you thinking about Jake so much? You didn't even see him all that often anymore. You were getting older, and there was less and less time available for you to trail after him everywhere like you would when you were a child. You wondered if he missed that. If he missed you at all.

Which was a completely ridiculous thought. Why would you care if one man missed you being around? Because Jake was just one man. Even if his eyes were deeper than the jades that your mom adorned her gowns with. Even if you kept thinking about his arms around you, holding you warm and close in his rare but cherished hugs. Yes. Absolutely nothing special about him. Jake was just one man on your staff, and you weren't going to waste your valuable time by thinking about him.

You lasted five minutes before you started imagining Roxy as Jake again.

Once more was still one too many to you, so you decided to talk to Jake once you had some free time. You hadn't seen him in almost a week, and you wondered if he had changed. A stupid thought. Of course he hadn't changed. Maybe that beard he had been trying to grow had come in, but other than that, you couldn't imagine that he was all that different. Unfortunately though, you were busy until well into the night. Jake hadn't been at dinner, probably in the kitchen putting finishing touches on everything and keeping everything coordinated.

You failed to see what was so special about a bunch of stuck up nobles visiting your stuck up parents to arrange the marriage of their stuck up children. You realized that you were spoiled rotten, but you couldn't say that you cared. It was your lot in life. It was what you were born into, and you didn't have any say over how much money your parents had, so why waste time feeling guilty about it? You just enjoyed what you had.

After dinner, you had to get to know your fiancée some more. You learned that Roxy was 15, that she liked cats and the color pink, and that she was genuinely happy to be marrying you. Which was more than you could say about her. She was nice, and her smile was infectious as all hell, but marriage? The whole idea turned you off. You admitted this to her when she asked for your thoughts on the arrangement. Something about her told you that she could see right through any lie you presented, so you just told the truth. She did seem disappointed, but shrugged that off pretty quickly. Roxy said that the wedding was a year from now, so you had time to get used to the idea. Her tone was a little hopeful? Maybe? All it did was make you even more uncomfortable, and you excused yourself from the room as soon as you could.

The social hour had shown you that you could live the rest of your life with Roxy. She would make a fine wife, you had no doubt about it. But you weren't thinking about your upcoming marriage as you stalked out of the room. You had only one thing on your mind, and it was the same thing that had been on your mind for months now.

When you entered the kitchen, you were surprised to find how empty it was. You didn't stick around all that long. A quick once over revealed that Jake was nowhere in here, so you left to search his bed chambers. He was either there, or out in the garden. You didn't understand why he liked to be out there so much. Something about the fresh air and quiet, or so it had been explained to you. You still couldn't see the appeal. But, then again, maybe you didn't need to. Jake liked it, and that was good enough for you.

To your surprise, you found Jake asleep in his bed. It wasn't surprising that he was in his room, rather, you were surprised to find him asleep. You never knew Jake to be an early sleeper. He was always up late doing one thing or the other, and awoke before dawn most days.

"Your Highness?" Jane was seated at the desk they had across the room, a quill poised in her hand above a sheet of parchment. It was dripping ink onto the paper, but she didn't seem to notice. It wasn't unusual for you to come barging in here, but the late hour must have confused her, because she was frowning. "Do you need something from Jake?"

You had to bite down a "yes," instead shaking your head. "No." You told her. "I was just wondering where he was. I hadn't seen him around lately." That was mostly the truth. You knew that you wanted _something_ from Jake, otherwise you wouldn't have sought him out, but you had no idea what it was.

Jane smiled, laughing a little as she stood up. She set the quill away, folding the paper crisply and tucking it into the folds of her skirt. Either she had finished it, or she didn't want you to see what it said. You honestly didn't care. "Yes, he's been rather busy lately. If it isn't his job, it's the kids, and if it isn't the kids, he's sketching in that notebook of his outside. I haven't seen much of him, either." She came forward to sit next to Jake on the bed, brushing the hair from his eyes and gazing at him with an expression that made your stomach twist. "I've tried telling him to stop wearing himself out, but he just won't have it! So stubborn." She let her hand fall away, standing again and brushing by you to the door. "I need to send a letter. Feel free to stay as long as you want, Dirk. Just don't wake him, please." Jane dropped into a low curtsy before exiting the room, the door clicking into place quietly behind her.

You had to suppress a frown. She called you by your name. You never gave her permission to do that.

You looked to Jake, then to the leather-bound journal on the bed next to him, covered by his hand. You never knew him to be an artist, but your curiosity was peaked by the mention of his drawings. And personal boundaries never meant that much to you. He didn't stir as you moved his hand, and you took a seat on the bed right where Jane was sitting before she moved. You didn't really care if you woke Jake up. He was a heavy sleeper anyway, and what was he going to do if he actually did wake up and see you with the journal? If it was important enough, he would be mad and take it from you, obviously, and you would respect that and not touch it again. That was an odd thought for you. You weren't some sort of self-entitled prick who thought that everything belonged to you, but it usually took a lot to earn your actual respect.

You frowned, hesitating to open the journal, and looked over at Jake's sleeping face. Respect, huh? You didn't know what to think about that. As far as you could tell, Jake hadn't done anything to earn your respect. You liked him well enough, sure, but you didn't think that you respected him to that degree. Especially since he's so far beneath you in rank.

It was probably nothing. You shrugged it off, opening the worn journal. You tried not to think too hard about your feelings on things. Instead, it was easier to shove them to the back of your mind, and let them stir and fester there. You had more important things to be worried about than your feelings on trivial matters like this.

The first page just had Jake's name, as well as a note written in the corner. The handwriting wasn't very neat, but from what you could gather, it was a gift from his mother, Judy. Which is awfully similar to Jake, and you think that he named one of his sons Joey? What an uninspired way of naming your kids. You were going to have to make sure that your kids had very original and well-thought out names. Hopefully Roxy was okay with that. She probably would be.

As you began flipping through the journal, you noticed something. The skill improved with every page. It wasn't noticeable at first, and to be honest, you weren't looking very hard, just idly flipping through the pages. Jake drew a wide variety of things. He had planets, small animals, and structures that were either made up or you just hadn't gotten the opportunity to see yet. Even just random objects, like a fork, a bottle, a church bell, and a piece of cheese. He had a few portraits, and you only recognized one of them to be Jane. There was an older woman, possibly his mother. You wondered why there was nothing of his father, and then decided that it didn't matter. You had shoved your nose into his business well enough for one day.

You were struck by what a surprisingly good artist he was. And you couldn't help but wonder what the motivation for these drawings was. He didn't get paid for them, sketches tucked away in an old journal. But the lines were crisp, deliberate, filled with intent. He picked up in the smallest details. His drawing of a rose even showed the aphids on the underside of the plant. Jake had a very realistic way of drawing. His portrait of Jane showed the odd birthmark at the base of her neck, and he did nothing to hide her, shall you say, "plump" size. His sketch of a horse was particularly pleasing to you. You liked the way he drew its mane, and the muscles under its skin and fur. It was a powerful beast, a magnificent specimen of a stallion. You could tell, just by the pencil marks he left on an otherwise blank page.

You wondered how Jake would draw you, as you finally reached the end and shut the not-quite full book. He hadn't drawn you in it, and you weren't entirely sure how to feel about that. Would he make you look attractive? Stern? Tired? You couldn't be sure. You didn't want to think about it too much. So you set his book down under his hand where you found it, but you didn't leave immediately, instead studying Jake.

You knew exactly how you would draw him, if you had the skill or the inclination to do so. You would have chosen to draw him like this, asleep. He was so much different when he was asleep. His face was normally tensed or tired, or a mix of the two, but when Jake was asleep, he was like a completely different person. He was calm, and looked years younger. The lines of his face smoothed out, and you could focus more easily on the strong lines of his jaw, the curve of his nose, or the length of his lashes, and the slight part of his lips as he breathed.

Did his lips always look so inviting? You didn't remember. And were you always so close to him? You shoved the thought away. You wouldn't like either answer.

Now, you knew what you wanted from Jake. Normally, when you knew what you wanted from someone, you just took it. Who would stop you? You  _were_ alone with Jake, after all. And he was asleep. So he would never know if you leaned in just a little bit further and…

You turned your head away, sighing shakily as you got to your feet. What the fuck were you thinking right there? You scowled bitterly, refusing to look back at Jake as you marched out of the room and closed the door behind you. Ridiculous. Why would you-? No, why would  _anyone_ want to-

You stopped halfway down the hall, reaching a hand up to brush your fingers over your lips. Your frown tightened. Disgusting. You were absolutely disgusting. Wanting to kiss Jake. And, worse, wanting  _him_ to kiss back. And enjoy it. You were filthy. You had never had these thoughts for another man before. Let alone a married man who was twice your age.

You turned, staring vindictively at Jake's room. That man was going to ruin you if you let this continue any longer. You should like  _Roxy_ , and be thinking about kissing  _her_ , not  _him_. Whatever Jake was doing to you, it wasn't funny, and you weren't going to let it continue.

You were going to have to get him fired to get him out of your life. It had been a long time coming, anyway.

* * *

Roxy was beautiful.

Or, at least, you knew that she should be.

The shade of her dress matched her eyes, and it looked like it would feel of flower petals if you ran your hands over the elaborate folds of her skirt. Her smile was positively radiant, and she looked every bit the happy bride as she walked down the aisle towards you. Pale skin, shapely figure, hair that was (somehow) even blonder than yours. Everything you knew about beauty was telling you that she was  _it_ , the most stunning, gorgeous person you would ever have the pleasure of laying your eyes on.

Everything you knew about  _yourself_ was telling you that she would look better with green eyes, and hair the color of tree bark.

You swallowed your regrets, reaching out to take Roxy's hand when she finally reached you. Her smile was genuine. And you hated yourself for not being able to return it. If the past year had taught you anything, it was that Roxy was a great girl, and you sure as fuck didn't deserve her. She needed someone who could really love her the way she wanted you to, not someone who was still caught up chasing a fever dream.

Eleven months, two weeks, and four days since you got Jake fired, and you still regretted it to your core. You  _missed him_ , so potently that it hurt. Not to mention that his family had been relying on his job here for income. You might have doomed them with your selfish, thoughtless action. Getting rid of him hadn't helped with anything. Your meals were tasteless now. You couldn't enjoy them. And you  _still_ wanted to kiss him.

It was maddening, how often you thought of that moment in his bedroom, when you so blatantly invaded his personal space. You missed your only opportunity to get a kiss from him. You might have never known what he tasted like, or if his lips were as soft as they looked, or how they felt against yours. You berated yourself for it constantly. It had been almost a year since you so much as glanced at Jake, and as it turned out, a year is more than enough time for someone to come to terms with how sick they are. And you were sick for wanting Jake, a guy, just like you, but that didn't make you want him any less. Pushing your feelings away hadn't worked for this one. You just came right back around to him, so you eventually sat yourself down, talked it out, and admitted that as wrong as it was, you… loved Jake.

God, even  _thinking_ the word made you uncomfortable. Love was such a superficial concept, and you absolutely loathed it. It was your least favorite emotion, hands down, and  _feeling_ it this strongly was unnerving as all hell. You wanted it to stop.

You were paying the wedding ceremony minimal attention, just enough to realize when you were supposed to say "I do" and nothing more. You didn't want to be getting married. Roxy was wrong. You hadn't warmed up to the idea at all in the year you had been given to prepare.

Her lips were too soft. They were too gentle, wanting you to take control of the kiss. Your hands found her waist, holding her like you knew you were supposed to. You kissed her back, and distantly, you remembered that this was your first kiss. You could have had it was Jake. But you missed your chance, so you closed your eyes and tried your damnedest to enjoy it.

The wedding ring sat heavy on your finger, and you found yourself staring at it for a good majority of the after party. It was your father's ring, the one that he had worn for as long as you could remember, and one that your son would one day inherit. Your father sat at the head of the dining table, his hand looking bare. You never realized before how old he was getting. You compared your hands to his, noting all the wrinkles he had that you lacked, and how thin his skin was getting. You would be like that one day. Old and tired, and forcing a marriage down your own child's throat. Maybe you would even see this as a good thing by the time you reached your father's age.

Your attention was caught by a flash of green eyes.

By the time you looked, his back was to you, so you couldn't be sure, but… God, was that  _Jake_? What was he doing here? You knew that chances were slim to none that it was actually him, but you wanted to believe it  _badly_.

You fumbled through some poor excuse about needing to use a chamber pot before excusing yourself from the table. You got a few odd looks, but fuck them. That familiar head of brown hair was leaving, and you didn't know what you would do if you let him get away a second time.

He ducked out of the room, and you had to resist the urge to run after him. You counted the seconds in your mind that it took to reach the exit. Seven seconds, which was seven seconds too slow. You thought that he would be gone in half that time, and you couldn't begin to describe the relief that filled you when you turned the corner to see him walking down the empty hall at a relaxed pace, without a care in the world.

It was easier to make him out without the thrum of the party to distract you, and you stood still a few seconds, overwhelmed by the situation. Were you dreaming? You had to be. "Jake?" You tried, taking a step forward.

Upon prompting, he turned to look at you. "Dirk?" Jake seemed confused, but you could not care less, because all you were thinking about was  _fuck it's him, he's really here, Jake Jake Jake_. It was pathetic. You hated being in love. But you couldn't hate him. "What're you doing out here?"

You shook your head, stepping closer until you were close enough to touch him. "This is my castle. I have an excuse. I want to know what  _you're_ doing here, Jake. I haven't seen you in a year."

The question seemed to make him uncomfortable, and Jake shifted in place, trying to cover up how he wasn't looking directly at you. "Well, did you think that I was going to miss your wedding?" He laughed, but it was awkward. Forced. You didn't understand why he thought that he could ever fool you. "She's lovely, Dirk. You must be very happy."

You wondered if he was aware of the way he was subtly leaning towards you. Your hands rested on his shoulders, but Jake didn't seem to notice, as he continued talking, faster now, as if he was nervous. "I admit that it was hard to get in. Invite only, and for very important people, yes? But I had a friend pull some strings, even if it took six flipping months. For a damned piece of paper, Dirk, it's ridiculous-!" You cut him off there, leaning in to catch him in a kiss. You were expecting Jake to be disgusted by you, push you away and storm off and never talk to you ever again.

Instead, what Jake did was stiffen, his fingers curling and uncurling in the air between the two of you before he gradually relaxed and kissed back. You were surprised, but not at all disappointed, shuffling closer. His hands found the front of your shirt, gripping tight, and your arms snaked down to wrap around his waist.  _This_ felt natural. This felt right, and undeniably  _good_ in a way that your kiss with Roxy didn't.

It didn't last long though, and Jake was pulling back. He wasn't pushing  _you_ back though, still holding you against him. Your chest was pressed against his, and you realized that you had somehow grown taller than him. Jake was red-faced with embarrassment, and he couldn't hold your gaze for long. "Fuck." He sighed shakily, running a hand through his hair. "I had been… hoping that it wouldn't come to this."

You frowned, your hold on him loosening. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Jake laughed, but it came out sarcastic and bitter. "You've always been smarter than I gave you credit for, Dirk, why don't you figure it out?" He stepped back, and you couldn't squash the feeling that this was all going horribly wrong. "We're both married, for starters, and you happen to be missing your lovely reception right now. Jane doesn't deserve to be cheated on, and neither does your blushing bride. You're a  _man_ , Dirk. We're both men, and- and I practically raised you! Or, at least, I was around more than your parents ever were." He huffed, as if offended on your behalf for your parent's lack of involvement in your life. "I see you like a son, so- we really shouldn't press any further with this nonsense."

His "no" was as direct as possible, but all you got out of that was " _Blah blah blah excuses excuses I want you Dirk, but I'm not going to make the first move._ " Maybe that assumption was a little presumptuous of you, but that didn't mean that it was wrong. Jake was still so close that you could count his eyelashes, and you were very aware of the way he was biting his lip, turned away from you just slightly but not making any effort to keep his distance.

You smirked. "Jake." He spared a glance at you. "Do us both a favor and stop talking."

He looked offended for a moment, but he shut up easily enough once you were kissing him again. And when you pushed him up against the wall, gripping his hair tight, pressed his groin to yours, and breathlessly said against his lips that you wanted to see him again tomorrow, he just nodded his agreement and urged you to keep it up.

* * *

"Dirk."

You knew what he was going to say. You didn't want to hear it. You wanted to block his voice out and just stay like this and hold him forever.

"Jake." You replied anyway.

You felt him shifting next to you in the darkened room, sitting up and pulling out of your embrace. "We can't keep doing this." He said after a tense moment of silence.

That was exactly what you were expecting.

You sighed, letting your eyes flutter closed. "I know."

You didn't say anything when Jake slipped out of bed. You didn't say anything when he fumbled to pull on his clothes only by the light of the moon. You didn't say anything when he came over and kissed you on the cheek.

"Goodbye, Dirk." He whispered against your skin. "I will always love you." And then he turned and walked out of your life, the door closing with a dull thud behind him like a seal. He would never come through that door again.

You understood perfectly why he left. Being gay was taboo. The age gap was frowned upon now that life expectancy was longer. You were both married. He had Jane waiting back home, and you had Roxy, sound asleep in the royal quarters while you snuck down to the guest room to partake in your filthy secret.

But just because you understood didn't mean that it didn't hurt. That you weren't frustrated and angry over such an unfair situation. That tears weren't stinging your eyes as you fought to keep your sobs quiet.

You understood why Jake had to leave you, yes, but that didn't make your tears any less real.

* * *

"If you could go back to any point in your life and do something - anything - differently, what would it be?" She asks, her back to you as she stares through the bars of your shared cell to watch the hallway. The dungeon is surprisingly empty. There are no other nearby prisoners or guards. It's just you, her, and the steady drip of water on stone. You know that she can't see very far down either hallway, as you're being held underground, and the only light is a single, weakly burning torch mounted to the wall across from your cell. You wonder how she's handling all of this. You wonder if that even matters by this point. It probably doesn't.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. You do that a lot. Sighing. Sighs of annoyance, despair, or exasperation. If you can express the emotion in a sigh, then you will. "I don't know, Roxy." You shake your head. "There's so many things that I did wrong. We both fucked up pretty royally, didn't we?"

She manages a weak laugh at your joke, and nods. "I love you, Dirk. You know that I do, but…" She sighs. Maybe they're contagious. "We're going to be dead by tomorrow. Let's be honest. You never were happy with the marriage, were you? You were such a dreamer when we met, Dirk. I remember you wanting to see the world, marry for love instead of wealth, and just have fun. Do you remember what it was like to have ambition?" She turns to look at you, and you turn away to avoid her gaze. She doesn't say any more, waiting for your reply.

"I remember." You admit, your voice quiet. "But I had to grow up eventually. A kingdom doesn't run on dreams, Rox."

She scoffs quietly. "What did we say about honesty, Dirk?" Internally, you sigh. Roxy never did let you lie to yourself.

You groan as if you're wasting your already limited time with these questions. "What do you want me to say, then?" You snap, standing up to pace the small cell. "That I'm sorry? Because I am. I'm sorry that I dragged you into this. I'm sorry that I was blind to the obvious and now a  _madman_ runs our country. I'm sorry that I wasn't a good father by any stretch of the imagination.  _Is that what you want to hear_?"

Again, she's quiet. You knows exactly what she's waiting to hear you say. In response to that little tirade, she merely raises an impatient eyebrow.

All at once, you deflate. You sink back onto the wooden bench that you're supposed to use as a bed, holding your head in your hands. "I didn't… I didn't think that you knew." You say after a moment. She chuckles, but doesn't try to interrupt now that you've gotten started. "Roxy, I- he was a  _baker_. A baker, Roxy. What was I supposed to do? Sweep him off his feet and break every rule in the book by marrying a common man who was twice my age?" You shake your head, disgust curling your lips up into a sneer. "Jake was married when we met. And by the time I realized what I wanted, I was married, too. We both know that you know this.  _You were there, Roxy._ What more is there to say?"

She blinks in surprise, taking a moment to study your expression. You're frustrated, your expression showing genuine confusion and thinly-veiled anger. "If you could go back and do something differently, you would run away with him." She states after a long pause. She says it as if it's fact - leaving no room for disagreement. "Because you love him, and he loved you. The age was a problem, with him obviously more likely to die soon, but neither of you would care, would you? It's your biggest regret. You think about it every night, and when you're asleep, you get to live in your faux reality for a few precious hours."

You just stare for a moment, shock on your face, and then you laughs, shaking your head and shifting away from her. "I shouldn't be surprised that you knew." You mutter. "You always know. It doesn't matter. It's behind me. I was young and foolish."

"You were in love." She corrects gently. And you still are. She can probably tell by the pain in your eyes when your looks at her.

"Same thing." You reply, bitterness in your voice that tells her exactly how deep your affections run. How much this has torn you up. How  _long_ you've wanted to tell her and beg for her forgiveness. Almost as long as you've been in love with Jake.

She smiles sympathetically, and approaches you, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder. "For what it's worth, I wouldn't do a single thing differently." She admits, surprising you. "Not even this part."

Moving before you can react, she brings her hand up, backhanding you across the jaw as hard as she can.

You barely even flinch, rubbing your jaw tenderly and giving a little wince at the contact. "Any particular reason for that?" You ask, and you do your best to cover up just how much that actually hurt.

"For having sex with another man while married to me and making that same act illegal to cover your tracks." She replies as nonchalantly as possible, her smile forcibly affixed to her face as you stare at her.

There's a tense moment of silence between the two of you before you burst out laughing, actually clutching your sides as you double over and shake with laughter, long and loud. At least it sounds better than another sigh. "Okay, I- I deserve that." You agree, nodding as you calm down. "We only did it once. Our situation became too worrisome afterwards to keep up an affair. He wouldn't let either of us come to that."

She snorts, and crosses her arms, turning away from you. "We only did it once, too." She mutters. "And ended up with twins." What are the odds?

You frown and hesitate before approaching her. "Roxy, I-" There's an apology on the tip of your tongue, but you don't get to say the rest. Echoing footsteps sound throughout the dungeon corridor, and you both immediately fall silent. The light of their torch leads the way, flickering and bouncing off of the walls, getting steadily closer until it's stopped right in front of you. Roxy reaches back behind herself, taking your hand on impulse. She's stiff with fear, her palm cool and clammy in yours. You think to comfort her, but decide against it.

As much as you loved to deny it, you know just as well as she does that there was never any other way for this game of  _hers_ to end.

And for some reason, your mind goes to the dream Roxy told you about. You know that Dave isn't going to remember seeing her, but you hope that the message got across well enough. You hope that Karkat takes good care of him for you. You were livid when you found out that Roxy had snuck away during that play a while back, but she got to meet Karkat. And when you didn't understand the significance of that, she told you that she had seen it before her orb was stolen. That Karkat would be the one to keep your son alive. He'll do a good job, you think. Better than anything you ever did.

Your cell is unlocked, the bars slid open so that you can exit. You and Roxy don't struggle or fight or argue. Your guards don't tell you where to go. She automatically heads back the way they brought you down here in the first place, you trailing behind her up flights of stairs, down corridors, in and out of rooms anywhere between barren and lavish. Why they have to make a spectacle of it, you aren't sure. Dead is dead, after all.

But eventually, you're lead through a door that opens out into a courtyard. The sun is shining, the sky is blue, and the breeze is just right. The kind of day where Roxy would take a stroll in the garden, normally. The wooden guillotine set in the center of the yard does kind of spoil the mood, though.

It takes you a moment to realize that you're still holding Roxy's hand. When you do, you give a small squeeze.

You walk forward without resistance, and Roxy pauses for a moment in front of your tormentor. "Really, Meenah," she sighs, "is this necessary?"

Meenah's expression tightens in a way that signifies she's warding off a frown. "What? This?" She gestures at the guillotine. You think that Roxy meant making her own daughter be the one to release the blade, but that works, too. The poor girl looks terrified, clutching at the rope so tightly that her knuckles are beginning to turn white and shaking like a leaf. Meenah shrugs. "Nah. Not really. There are a lot of other ways I could've had you and hubby o'there killed, but I let Fef here pick out your sentence, and this is the one she chose." At the mention of her name, the girl flinches. Meenah doesn't seem to notice, smiling with what might be pride if it didn't look so cruel.

You just shake your head, and Roxy kisses your cheek before releasing your hand to approach the guillotine. Meenah's guards hold you back as she crouches down in front of it, resting her head in the little crevice where it's supposed to be. After a moment of consideration, she tilts her head to be facing away from the girl, Feferi, you think. And to think that you once considered her for marriage to your son.

You always planned on showing Rose and Dave to the public once they were both old enough and Meenah wasn't a threat anymore, but you put it off for too long. Only a handful of people even know that you have children at all. Your friend, the king of Morgona, is one. You wrote about Dave and Rose in a letter to Jake once that you never sent. Maybe you just imagined that one, though. You never sent any of your letters to Jake, but no matter how long you searched through the drawer stuffed full of them, you never found that particular letter. You never told any guards that Dave was your son, either, until he was taken - you just had them check on Rose and Dave every hour, on the hour, every night. They never questioned you. You just wanted to make sure that your children were safe.

You regret telling Meenah about Dave back when you thought that you could trust her. She mentioned having a daughter, and the two of you ended up discussing the possibility of a marriage between the two one day, only for you to end up refusing. You didn't want to force that on Dave. He was only two at the time. Would things have gone differently if you had? Maybe Meenah wouldn't want him dead, and you and Roxy could have woken today just like every other day, instead of being ripped from your beds and forced out of your own castle in chains.

"Okay, Fef." Meenah signals to her daughter. "When I get to three, drop it, a'ight? One."

You don't close your eyes. You think about Rose and Dave. You think about your kingdom. You think about Jake. But most importantly, you think about your wife.

"Two."

Roxy's eyes are open, and she's looking right at you. You meet her stare and, ever so slightly, she smiles.

"Three."

The rope is released, and there's a very brief flash of intense pain across her face and a splatter of red as your world shatters.

Roxy was wrong.

If you could go back and change one thing, you wouldn't run away with Jake. You would prevent yourself from ever meeting him.

You would keep yourself focused. You would be a better king, a better parent, and most importantly, a better husband. The husband that Roxy deserved.

The feeling that you get when you see your wife being decapitated is not something that you can describe easily.

You life flashes before your eyes. Your childhood, your stupid romance with Jake, your wedding, holding your twin children for the first time and vowing that you would protect them.

It seems like you did a great job, huh?

No, you can't describe how you feel very well, but it feels kind of like someone physically ripped your heart out and you can't breathe or think properly and you just want to throw up. Instead of throwing up, what that feeling inspires you to do is to grab the man holding you by the hair and slam his face into your knee so hard that you feel his nose crack.

What happens next is a flurry of motion that you can't quite follow with your mind still reeling and Roxy's _decapitated body and head right fucking there oh God_ but it ends with your body aching and you on your knees with your head wrenched back by the hair, staring up with hate-filled eyes at Meenah's sneer. You are literally seeing red, thanks to the blood dripping from the gash in your forehead into your right eye. You want to kill her - God, you can just imagine getting your hands around her neck and  _squeezing_.

Meenah "hmph"s in distaste, and gives a flick of the wrist. The guards holding you where you are drag you over to the guillotine, and you shudder. They removed Roxy's body, but it's still slick with her blood (and still warm) as they force you over it.

"Some king." There's amusement in Meenah's voice as she nudges you in the ribs with her boot. "Topplin' ya was almost child's play. Gotta say, king  _Dirky_ , I'ma little disappointed." You snarl, and try to push yourself up, only to be pushed right back down.

"You'll never win." You hiss. "You can't honestly expect to take over control of my kingdom just like this-!"

"Actually-" Meenah cuts in with a sing-song voice. You hear the sound of her heels on the cobblestone, and then she's standing right in front of you. You have to crane your neck to look up at her. The grin on her face sends shivers down your spine. "I can. It's easy. You have no heirs ready to take up the throne when you're dead. And your people'll be absolutely  _devastated_ to hear about the death of their  _beloved_ king and queen. But I'll come in with the good news! You  _do_ have an heir, and the first person who can find  _the sweet prince_  gets a reward of one million gold. And when I get my hands on him…" She gestures to Feferi, who gulps nervously. The poor girl looks sick. You would feel bad for her if you weren't so furious. She begins to quietly count.

"One." The blade is raised higher and higher.

"Just ya wait 'n see, Dirky, it's going to be such a scandal."

"Two." Feferi looks close to tears.

Meenah's grin is so wide that you fear her face is going to split in two, "The Dersite people are going to find that their  _prince_ fell victim to the same group of "terrorists" that sadly killed their king and queen. The rebel group will be crushed by the very people they're trying to save. It'll be almost too easy to pin the whole thing on them. That nuisance'll be outta my hair forever." All you can see is red, and Meenah's smug grin. "And it's all thanks to the death of  _your son_."

"Three..." The rope is released.

Then, there's a sharp pain, and everything goes black.


	23. My Immortal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And if you have to leave,  
> I wish that you would just leave.  
> Your presence still lingers here.  
> And it won't leave me alone.

She looks an awful lot like Karkat.

The same dark, olive skin, the same color of hair - brown so dark that it's almost black. They have the same nose and the same cheekbones and the same short stature. She has light green eyes, like the color of ferns, and Karkat must get his eyes from his dad, because his are the color of chocolate. The family resemblance is uncanny, though.

Disciple sighs from where she's sitting at the head of the table, picking at the hem of her sleeve as if nervous. "Alright." She says after five minutes of awkward silence and staring, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "I… suppose that you all deserve the truth, at the very least." She relents. "It's all just- a tad difficult for me. You're all so familiar. It feels like looking into a mirror showing me the past." She smiles warmly. "It's quite the experience. Not something that many people get to feel."

When she falls quiet again, you hear Karkat sigh, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet. "Enough stalling." He says firmly. He doesn't look very happy for someone who might have just found his long-lost mother, but you can tell that he's holding himself back. "Just start talking. Explain what we're doing here, and how you seem to know all of us."

You would expect Disciple to be annoyed with Karkat's blunt demands, but she just sighs fondly as if Karkat is the most adorable thing in the world. "Right." She clears her throat, gesturing for Karkat to sit down. He does, albeit hesitantly. "I suppose it all started when I married into the Prospitian throne." Disciple mused, rubbing her chin in thought. "Well, in reality, it began generations before that, but none of you would be here now if I hadn't acted the way I did back then."

"Wait." John interrupts, looking confused. "The  _Prospitian_ throne? But Prospit hasn't been capable of supporting a monarchy years. It fell into bankruptcy, didn't it?"

Nodding, Disciple gives a dry smile. "Thank you for staying caught up on our nation's history, John. I was the Prospitian queen before I was forced to flee and surrender my court. And while we were never a very wealthy country…" her gaze slips over to John, and her gaze hardens, "I can assure you that falling into bankruptcy was a long ways off. That story was made up to put the public at ease and hide the truth. Even my own citizens bought it, and they happily joined with Viel when a "spontaneous" truce was offered to keep both of their economies stable." She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms unhappily.

From across the room, still standing by the doorway, Rose chuckles. "You'll have to forgive Disciple. She's still bitter about the whole incident." The smile on her face slips, and Rose grimaces. "Not that I… blame her. But just keep listening. I think that it's better if she tells it."

The attention shifts back to Disciple, and she inclines a grateful nod towards Rose. "Now, then," she clears her throat, "as I was saying…"

* * *

_When you were arranged to marry your ruling prince, you couldn't have been more thrilled. You, a mere duchess, had been selected to be the next queen of your small but much beloved country. You couldn't have been more excited! And Kankri was absolutely wonderful to you. A true gentleman in every sense of the word, and you loved every little moment that you got with him._

_There wasn't a lot of time to see each other what with all of the wedding plans and preparations and the coronation ceremony to plan, but you didn't mind. You couldn't get yourself to stop smiling! Once you and Kankri were married, it wouldn't matter, because you would be seeing each other every day. And you would be having children together in no time… Oh, you were thrilled! You couldn't thank your parents enough for somehow arranging this. However they did it, you didn't care. You were too happy to care._

_That happiness didn't last anywhere near long enough._

* * *

_"You look beautiful, Meulin!" Aranea complimented you, fixing the front of your wedding gown one last time. Technically, you were supposed to have servants doing this for you, but your friends had insisted, and how could you refuse? You were getting married! Of course they had to be here. "I personally would have gone for something with a little more lace, but that's just me."_

_Latula scoffed, elbowing Aranea jokingly and biting back a laugh. "Yeah, yeah, we know. We've heard it all. More ruffles. Less poofy. Another layer of lace. This Rufioh guy had better be perfect for all of this trouble over a stupid dress, or I'm going to be disappointed."_

_Aranea flushed at the mention of her fiance, and you grinned at her in the mirror. "You shouldn't stress so much." You soothed her. "Whatever you pick will be lovely, I'm sure. And I don't think that the groom is ever focusing on the dress when the bride walks down that aisle."_

_"Yeah." Latula snickered into her hand. "More like what's_ under  _that dress."_

_If Aranea could be any redder, she probably would be. She looked like she couldn't decide between laughing and strangling Latula._

_A knock at the door interrupted the giggle fest, and Porrim poked her head in. "Girls, I hate to interrupt, but your cue is coming up soon, Meulin. Are you ready?"_

_Oh, this was the big moment. What you had been waiting seven months, two weeks, four days, and a handful of hours for (the exact number had slipped your mind, you were so nervous). You nodded. "Of course I'm ready." You didn't think that you would ever be ready for this._

_But that must have been the right answer, because Porrim smiled at you and stepped into the room. "It's okay to be nervous." She said quietly, and you could see how she and Kankri had been friends for so long without falling for each other. Porrim had a charming beauty about her, no doubt, but she was so… soft. She was always the shoulder to cry on, always there with some solid advice, and you could honestly say at that moment that she was more of a mom to you in these past few months than your own mother had been your entire life._

_You managed to smile back, despite the queasy feeling in your stomach. Porrim offered you her hand. You hesitated, then reached out and took it. "Let's do this." Your fate had been officially sealed._

* * *

_You ran a hand through your hair, sighing wearily. "I just don't know what we're going to do." You bemoaned, holding your head in your hands. "We can't ignore this threat at our borders, Kankri! We don't even have an heir to take over if something happens to us. What are we going to do? Just let them take over? Are you really that desperate to remain neutral?"_

_Kankri shushed you, putting a hand over your stomach and running the other through your hair gently. "Please don't fret, dear." He said quietly. "I'll figure something out, I promise, but I don't want you to worry. You know that stress isn't good for the baby." He smiled, but you couldn't bring yourself to return it._

_"What does it matter?" You stood up, pushing his hands away and taking a step back. "It's just going to be another miscarry, and you know it." You bit your lips, tears beginning to well in your eyes. "How many has it been now? Two? Three? Why don't you just admit it? I'm not worthy of the throne. I can't even bear a proper son!"_

_You began to cry in earnest, and while you wanted to pull back when Kankri wrapped his arms around you, you were too exhausted to resist his warmth. You wanted to be comforted. It had been two years since your marriage, and still, you hadn't had a child. It had just been miscarry after miscarry. Aranea already had a lovely little girl, with another child on the way. Latula was talking about having one with her currently undisclosed lover. And while Porrim didn't want a child of her own, she said that her sister had gotten sick, and if necessary, she would take in her little niece and raise her instead. You think that her name was Kanaya. But it didn't matter. Your friends were all moving on, and here you were, still struggling to stay pregnant longer than four months. You just didn't know what was wrong! You would do anything to not have to wake up in a pool of your own blood again. No, not_ your  _blood. The remains of your developing child. You keep yourself up at night crying, thinking about each and every one of them. What you might have named them. All the ways you would have shown them your love. How beautiful and intelligent and kind they would have been. Even Kankri wouldn't dare to touch you when you were crying that hard._

_"You're one of the strongest women I know." Kankri told you, kissing the crown of your head. "If anyone can have this child, it's you. But, please, don't stress over little things and try your chances. Just go lay down, dear."_

_You sniffled, wiping the tears away with the backs of your hands and looking up at Kankri. "But… what about Meenah? She's getting stronger, Kankri. You can't keep ignoring what her family is doing. They've left us alone because we don't have much to offer, but you have to stop her before she gets too much power."_

_"Shh." Kankri kissed you to quiet you down, tucking your face against his neck. You clung to him, grateful for someone to hold. "I promise that I'll put a stop to this. Mark my words, she will never lay a hand on you, or our child."_

_He put his hand on your stomach again, rubbing the barely-there bulge, and you let yourself relax into him. You let yourself believe him._

_That was your first mistake._

* * *

_It wasn't very lady-like for you to take the situation into your own hands like this, but you didn't care. You were beyond caring. It had been a month since Kankri promised to do something, and yet, he hadn't taken any action. Deep down, you think that you always knew that he wouldn't. But that didn't make you any less disappointed._

_The final straw had been the attack on Latula's house._

_You could understand why Meenah would target your other friends. Aranea was publishing propaganda against Meenah in her novels. Alongside tales of Marquise Spinneret Mindfang, you could find encouragements to act out and fight against her. And Rufioh had quit Meenah's army with valuable secrets. Killing him was a tactic. As much as it killed you on the inside - as much as you hated Meenah for tearing their family apart - you understood the motive. They were threats._

_But Latula?_

_She had quit. She wasn't fighting Meenah anymore. You had helped her cover her tracks yourself, and you thought that she would be safe. And now? To hear of her murder, her husband snapping, and her daughter missing… You knew that Meenah did it. It had her written all over it. She was always one for making a show of things. It was the same story with Mituna. Kankri hadn't stopped crying for days. They had been best friends - practically brothers. And to see his body like that… well, what was left of his body, anyway. His wife and newborn son had been found in a similar state. You hadn't thought that Meenah was capable of killing children so young, but… you were wrong. Mituna hadn't done anything against her. He hadn't deserved it. None of them had. The sight of their bodies ripped apart and scattered over the house was what fueled you to write the letter. And thinking about it again now was what encouraged you to send it. Murder was her way of saying, "hey, look what I can do!" and you were sick of letting her get away with it._

_"Deliver it." You said stiffly, handing the letter to your fastest courier. He seemed hesitant, looking at the very regal envelope and then back at you before nodding and taking off. He was probably wondering what you were thinking - carrying out an action like this. And you didn't blame him._

_You rested your head in your hands, looking down at the gradually developing bulge in your stomach. So far, the pregnancy had gone without a hitch. You would do anything to keep it that way, and to keep your future child safe from Meenah's reach. Which meant that you needed her gone._

_Satisfied, you sat back, one hand on your stomach protectively. It was out of your control now. The assassination order had been filled out and sent. You had requested The Organization's finest killer, a woman codenamed "the Demoness" who had never failed to get her target. You didn't know what she looked like. Nobody did. But details like that weren't important. She got the money after she did the job, and you were offering enough money that she wouldn't need another job for a year. Prospit wasn't the wealthiest country, but that didn't mean that you didn't have any gold. Besides._

_This was worth it._

_For your country, your husband, and more importantly, your child._

* * *

_Your throat hurt from screaming and shouting. You would be crying if you had any tears left, but they had been drained from you, dried and staining your cheeks. "Please, stop!" You tried for what felt like the thousandth time. Your pleas fell on deaf ears. She didn't care, examining her blood-stained nails and wiping them clean on a silk cloth she fished out of her pocket._

_You kept tugging and tugging on the shackles around your wrist, but you couldn't get them to loosen or slide off. You couldn't get any closer to him while you were still chained to the wall. All you were doing was cutting up your wrists, but you didn't care. You needed to get to him - you couldn't stand to watch him suffer like this._

_"Meenah!" You shouted at her and, as if bored, she slowly turned her head to meet your gaze. "Meenah, I'm sorry!" You choked out. "Just- just stop this! He didn't do anything! He doesn't deserve it!"_

_She regarded you for a moment, her mouth turned downwards into a grimace as she stared at you with disdain. "I could." She said after a moment, her voice devoid of any feeling. "But I want you to know how I felt when you sent that little assassin for me. She got the poison in the right cup, but Kurloz was thirsty. He drank every last drop. I had to watch my best friend choke on his own lungs as his body shut down and he spasmed on the floor. I was powerless as he died and suffered in front of me. I know that he wasn't exactly my husband," her gaze flitted over to Kankri, and her lips curled up into a cruel sneer, "but this will have to do."_

_You sobbed, hanging your head and slumping on the floor. "Please." You whimpered. "It's… it's been hours. Just please let him die…"_

_A pause. You hoped to God that she was at least thinking about it. Finally, Meenah shrugged. "Alright. But," you didn't like the look in her eyes, "I want you to do it."_

_"What…?" A dull, rusty dagger was dropped to the floor in front of where you were crouched. It was already stained with his blood. After hours of being tortured with this same weapon, purposely left unsharpened so that it took longer to cut and hurt all the more, it was almost poetic that it was also the blade that would end his life._

_"Don't bother tryin' ta use it on me." The chains attached to the wall suddenly went slack around your wrists as she unlocked them. "I can disarm you easily, but also have my guards in here before you could think about gettin' anywhere near me." She stepped back, away from Kankri for the first time that night, and gestured at him. "Well? What're you waitin' for?"_

_You didn't move for a long moment._

_You were staring at Porrim across the room, her body slumped, lifeless on the floor, and her back to you. That was fine. You didn't want to have to see her dead. It was easier to pretend that she didn't have a gaping hole in her chest with her back to you. Another death on your hands. If only she hadn't tried to defend the two of you..._

_You lifted your head, dagger clasped in your hands, and forced yourself to take a good, long look at Kankri._

_You had been attacked in your bedroom - ambushed - and your heavy bedframe had been set up right. Kankri had been chained to it, his wrists bound above his head with cuffs that you think were designed specifically to mock you. He was born under the sign of cancer, and it looked like he was going to die under it, too. Albeit in a much more literal way. You might have laughed if it wasn't so morbid._

_The bed was much bigger than either of you, so Meenah had been given plenty of room to work with. She chose purposely to use ropes that were too short to reach Kankri's limbs from the legs of the bed. Not that she gave up over something silly like that. Instead, your husband had been forced to stretch far beyond what was natural. That was what made him scream the first time. But that was hours ago. He was probably numb by now._

_Shakily, you got to your feet, and approached him, his body having long gone limp._

_The one eye that could still work blinked open when you approached. You thought that you saw recognition in that eye. Maybe relief. But it closed again, and when you reached you to touch his blood-stained cheek, Kankri relaxed into your touch._

_The tears started up again, and you bit your lip to hold in a sob as you pressed your forehead to his. You didn't care about the blood getting in your hair. All of this was your fault. Kankri had told you not to do anything - that he would handle it. You didn't have a scratch on you. That was your punishment - the suffering of the one you cared for the most, all because you thought that you had the right to decide what was best._

_You had to resist the urge to put a hand on your stomach. You didn't want Meenah to know that you were pregnant. That would just be one more thing for her to use against you._

_"Kankri…" You breathed out his name, and he opened his eye again to look at you. Faintly - barely more than a twitch of the head - he nodded._

_You swallowed your tears, held the dagger firm, and plunged it into his already cut up chest. His ribs gave. And so did his heart. Yours shattered, breaking along with your resolve as you left the knife stuck in his torso and collapsed into tears on the floor in a pool of your husband's blood. He let out his last breath, and you lost the thing you loved most in the world._

* * *

_You carried Kankri's dead body in your arms, your final act of humiliation. Your wrists were bound in front of you, and your arms were getting tired, but you didn't care. She couldn't even be bothered to kill you herself. Instead, Meenah had ordered one of her guards to lead you outside, kill you, and bury you with your husband so that she didn't have to look upon the two of you anymore._

_You didn't want to die. You weren't ready._

_But what choice did you have?_

_You stopped walking, and the guard "escorting" you stopped as well, turning to face you with a blank expression. "Here is fine." You murmured, lowering yourself to the ground. He didn't reply, keeping a hold on your lead as you carefully set Kankri down. His body was torn and scarred almost beyond recognition, but it didn't matter. You kissed him gently anyway, petting his hair, matted with blood, one last time before turning back to your executioner._

_He didn't seem impressed, reaching to grab the bow strapped to his back. You could tell that he was skilled at this, pulling an arrow from his quiver with one fluid motion and drawing his bow back to aim at you. You didn't mind. You didn't know how to begin living without Kankri. But you still weren't ready. And you wouldn't be for another six to seven months._

_You put your hands over your stomach, feeling the need to cry again. You ignored it. Enough with the tears - you were done with just crying and crying and not getting anywhere._

_"Please." You whispered, and he paused, arching an eyebrow at you. You had his attention. "Don't hurt me. Don't hurt the baby." His eyes drifted downward, noticing the bulge of your stomach now that you had pressed your nightgown down against your skin, and his hold on the bow loosened. Your gown was designed to be baggy, but the obvious lump was hard to ignore when you pulled the fabric tight. "I want the chance to deliver it." You pressed, hopeful almost beyond all reason. "I can't give up on my only child."_

_You saw hesitance in his eyes. The man sighed, then drew his bow back again, aiming at your head. You closed your eyes, waiting._

_But the hit never came._

_"Come." He said gruffly, and you opened your eyes carefully to look at him. He had put his bow away, and was instead pulling a knife from his belt. Surprised, you couldn't do much more than watch as he cut through the ropes around your wrists and let them drop into the dirt. His heavy eyes bore into you, an intensity in them that you hadn't seen before in anyone besides Kankri. "We don't have much time."_

_A minute later, you were running._

_Your dress was torn and your heels had been kicked off. Your lungs heaved and your legs burned, but you couldn't stop. He was ahead of you, Kankri in his arms, and you knew that he was going purposefully slow so that you could keep up._

_You weren't sure how long you had been running. You would frequently stop to catch your breath, and towards the end of the journey, you were begging to stop - insisting that you had gone far enough. This couldn't have been good for the baby._

_Finally -_ finally  _\- as the sun was peeking over the horizon, he stopped by a river. You drank so much that your stomach felt swollen (but maybe that was just the baby). He waited patiently for you to have your fill and once you were done, you turned to him._

_"What's your name?" You asked. You must have been a truly pathetic sight because, despite how you anticipated him answering, he actually told you._

_"Horuss." He replied. "But that isn't important. We have to keep moving."_

_You were already groaning internally at the thought of continuing, but you nodded and stood back up on your aching feet. "Why? Where are we going?"_

_His gaze hardened. "Somewhere out of her reach. Where she can never find you," his gaze moved to your stomach, "or your child."_

_You nodded again. And when it was time once again to keep running, after burying Kankri and crying away all the water you drank down, you ran._

* * *

_You kissed Karkat on the forehead, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "We're going to have to cut that soon." You cooed at him, and he giggled, reaching his hands up to grab fistfuls of your own messy hair. You gently pushed his hands back down at his sides, and Karkat settled for grabbing fistfuls of his pants instead._

_"Ma." He pouted at you, and you felt your heart squeeze with affection. "Food?" He tried to grab at your shirt, but you shook your head._

_"No food right now." You wagged your finger at him, hefting him up out of his cradle and into your arms. "You can have food when we get to where we're heading, okay, baby?" You knew that Karkat couldn't quite understand you just yet, but you enjoyed talking to him anyway. Everything was too quiet without Kankri's words to fill the void in the air._

_You lifted your bag over your shoulder (it was funny, you thought, how you used to be a queen, but now all of your belongings could fit in one bag), and left the bedroom. "Horuss, I'm leaving." You said, stopping at the kitchen door to peek in on him. He was busy feeding his son, setting sliced carrots in front of him and letting Equius lift them to his mouth with his chubby fingers. He was about seven months older than Karkat. Maybe, under different circumstances, they could have been friends._

_"Alright." Horuss replied, looking up at you. You saw his expression soften as Karkat took hold of your hair and began chewing on it. He was always much softer when you had Karkat with you. "Be safe." You knew that he wasn't talking to you, but you nodded anyway._

_You left his house that day, and you never saw Horuss again._

_With Karkat in your arms, you made your way down the busy street, ducking and weaving your way through the passersby. They were far too busy to make way for a child - just about every woman outside had a child with her, anyway. Karkat was loving it, though, looking around with big eyes and fascination at everything around him. You tried not to take him outside a lot, for fear that Meenah was still looking for you, so it was a novelty for him to see so many people and sights and sounds._

_You had a hood over your head, as you always did when you were out in public. A year hadn't made you less paranoid. It only made you angrier, and more impatient. It was this impatience that drove you to this decision. You couldn't raise a child after what Meenah did to your husband. To your country. Because of her, Karkat couldn't grow up with a father, or a home. And you couldn't just sit idly by and accept that. You needed justice. You needed some form of closure - to know that she was going to pay for what she did to your family._

_And you weren't going to get Karkat involved, as much as this decision was tearing you up._

_You took a deep breath to steady yourself, and knocked firmly on the orphanage door._

_A small, frail old woman answered it, looking at you with disdain. You didn't let her age fool you. She was just as bitter as Meenah. She was the perfect cover. No one would think to look for your child under her care._

_"Is this him?" She indicated to Karkat, and your arms tightened protectively around him on instinct._

_You forced yourself to relax, and nodded. "Yes." You replied. "His name is Karkat. One year old, to the day."_

_She huffed. "Very well." And then she reached out her arms to take Karkat from you._

_He looked up at you then, his big, brown eyes confused and a little worried. Karkat could probably feel how unhappy you were, because his little fingers tightened around your sleeve and he reached up to touch your cheek. "Ma?" He asked, his voice small and frightened, and you had to look away to keep yourself from crying. You didn't think that anything could hurt more than losing Kankri._

_You were wrong._

_"It's okay, Karkat." You spoke to him in a soft voice, pressing your forehead to his. You couldn't cry. You had to remain strong - for both of you. "Mommy will be back for you, alright? Just be a good boy. Make friends. Have a life. I'll come back." You forced a smile, but that just seemed to upset Karkat even more._

_"Ma?" He tried again, clinging to you, even as you carefully pried his hands off of you and passed him to the orphanage owner. You didn't know her name. The less you knew, the safer Karkat was._

_He scrunched up his tiny face as he left your arms, and by the time he was nestled in hers, he was crying. You had to fight the urge to take him back - to hold him tight in your arms and never let go._

_You heard more than saw the door close in front of you. Your eyes were too blurred with tears to see much at all, and you made it seven steps away from the building before you crumbled to your knees and sobbed._

* * *

"And now I'm here." Disciple concludes, avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room.

No one says anything. It's so quiet that even your breathing sounds deafening. You steal a glance at Karkat out of the corner of your eye. He looks pale and sick, like he's going to throw up at any moment. You reach over and touch his shoulder, and Karkat flinches like you just burned him, recoiling away from you. Concerned, you let your hand hover there for a moment before you let it drop. You can tell when someone wants to be left alone. This must be very hard for him to process.

"Okay." Rose claps her hands together, successfully getting the attention of everyone in the room and breaking the awkward silence. "I think that's enough explanation for one day. Why don't I show you all to your rooms?"

Everyone nods, eager to get away, and you start to stand up, only to freeze when a voice you haven't heard in weeks speaks up.

"Horuss is dead." Nepeta says flatly, her voice as emotionless as her expression as she stares at the wall across from her.

Disciple looks surprised, and she turns her head to regard Nepeta with suspicion. And maybe a little bit of anger? "I'm sorry, and how do you know that?" As ridiculous as you think it is for her to consider Nepeta a threat, you understand where she's coming from. She really doesn't know if she can even trust her own son.

"So is Equius." Nepeta continues as if Disciple hadn't spoken at all. "There was a fire a few days ago. Half of the town burned. Equius made me leave them. I woke up to my dad screaming in pain as he was burned alive. That's the only reason I got out in time - because he woke me up."

If the room was quiet before, then that is absolutely fucking  _nothing_ compared to how silent it is now.

It takes a moment, but then, quietly, Disciple replies with, "I'm sorry to hear that."

As if she just flipped a switch, Nepeta's entire demeanor changes. She curls in on herself, hiding her face in her hands as her body begins to shake with sobs. Kanaya rises to her feet, taking two steps to close the distance between them, and puts an arm around Nepeta's shoulders. You can't hear what she's saying, she's talking so quietly, but you hope that it's working. You're worried about your friend, but you don't know what to say. It's so hard to believe that Equius is dead. He always seemed so… above death. How did you not pick up on this sooner?

Kanaya looks over her shoulder at Rose, her face creased with worry. "I think that now is a good time to see our rooms." The underlying hint in her words is obvious.

Your sister nods. "Of course." Rose says with a smile that is a little too forced. "Follow me - your rooms aren't that far from here. You can all have the full tour tomorrow." She starts out of the room, Kanaya leading Nepeta along behind Rose as the poor girl continues to cry.

Again, you move to get to your feet, only this time, John's hands are supporting your shoulders and chest as he helps you up. His warmth bleeds through your shirt, and you try to ignore how nice it feels to no effect. You really need to work on getting over John. If it wasn't pathetic before, it definitely is now.

"Karkat." You turn your head at the sound of Disciple's voice. She still isn't looking at any of you, her head pointed to the floor and her hair covering up her expression. "Stay? Please. I need to talk to you for a moment."

You frown at the look of distaste on Karkat's face. You know that the last thing he wants is to be alone with his mom while he's still thinking all of this over, but he nods anyway, and sits back down. You almost protest, but then John and Jade are leading you out, hands on your shoulders and their voices quiet in your ears as they tell you to let Karkat have some space.

You let them lead you away.

The sound of a door closing behind you has never felt so wrong.


	24. Before It Gets Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes before it gets better,   
> the darkness gets bigger.   
> The person that you'd take a bullet for  
> is behind the trigger.

"Do you think Karkat is mad at me?" You ask tentatively, chewing on your lower lip nervously. 

Rose finishes tying off your bandages, and gives a shrug in response. "I don't know." She pats your back once she's done, signaling that you can move again. "What makes you think that he is to begin with?"

You knew that she was going to ask, but you still don't know how to answer. You don't know exactly what makes you feel like you've pissed him off. So you just tell her that. The truth always satisfies Rose more than a lie, even if it's a really shitty truth. "I don't know." You confess. "Just a… feeling? We were good friends before the, uh, "incident" but now he doesn't want to seem to even want to be near me. It's like I don't even know him anymore." You bit your lip nervously. Truth be told, you're starting to get worried. Karkat is one of your best friends, or at least, you thought that he was. You don't want to give that up without at least some kind of explanation.

You turn around on your bed to face Rose, watching her put your bandages away in the little drawer on your nightstand. It isn't anywhere near as elaborate as the one you had back home, but it's quaint and functional. You like it.

Hands on her hips, Rose studies you with a look that makes you deeply uncomfortable. Somehow, you manage to keep a straight face, but you're so glad that you happen to have your shades on. If you were looking at her head on just now, you would have crumbled, no doubt about it. "Well," Rose said finally, breaking the creepy eye contact to look to the side, "have you ever considered that maybe you never really knew him to begin with?" You blink. What kind of a question is  _that_? Rose must be able to read your thoughts, because she continues quickly with her explanation. "Look, Dave, a lot of life-changing things have been happening very quickly. I think that Karkat is just trying to think through all of this. The version of him that you think you know is the Karkat that's on a mission, so how much of the real him that you actually know remains to be seen. Stress brings out the weirdest sides of us. Just give him some time to sort through his thoughts, alright?"

She kisses you on the forehead, and ruffles your hair like you're three years old all over again. You roll your eyes, but you can see that she's being sincere, so you bite back a smart remark and nod. "Okay." You agree. "I'll just try giving him his space."

"Good choice." Rose commends you with a wink, and helps you stand up. "Unfortunately, that is going to have to wait until later. We have a tour to get underway."

* * *

In hindsight, the word "tour" should have warned you that this was going to be boring. Back at the palace, tours were never good. As you got older, your parents would assign you to give tours to visiting nobles to help familiarize yourself with the layout of the castle and it's history, since you have to explain the historical importance of every single room that you show them. It was boring giving tours, but being a part of them is even more boring. You don't even have stupid facts to remember to help distract you from how boring it all is. You just lean on John a lot, follow Rose, and attempt to listen to what she's explaining. It's all a huge waste of time in your opinion. You don't know how she can be enjoying herself.

"These tunnels," Rose is saying as she leads your group down the main hallway, "were dug for years before anyone could move in, and some are still being dug out as we speak. They have to be stabilized and secured, which is a challenge, since we set up base near a hot springs. But it was worth it - the base has a source of constant, warm running water that we bring to various places in the base with a system of aqueducts and wooden pipes."

You can almost feel your brain leaking out of yours ears if you concentrate hard enough.

John looks fucking raptured by Rose's every word, not that you're surprised. Just about anything impresses that kid. You look over at Karkat, and you frown with concern. He's been unusually quiet lately, and while you know that Rose told you to give him his space, you can't help but be worried. You wonder what he and his mom talked about when she asked him to stay back. Based on how reserved he's being - staying at the back of the group, eyes straight ahead, and just barely looking alive at all - you can't imagine that it was anything good.

You reach over to tap him on the shoulder, and Karkat flinches like you just stuck him with a pitchfork. You stare for a moment, and then he shrugs it off like nothing happened, fixing you with a glare. "What is it?" He asks under his breath, almost a hiss. "I'm trying to pay attention to the tour."

Yeah. As if you believe that. "Oh really?" You shoot back. "What room did we just pass by?" You challenge. Like you predicted, Karkat hesitates, and when he tries to sneak a glance over his shoulder, you hum triumphantly. "It was the library, Karkat." You tell him.

He looks surprised, and blinks. "This place has a fucking  _library_?" Karkat asks, bewildered, not that you can blame him.

"I know." You sigh. "I didn't believe it either, until Rose showed us. Are you okay? You're not usually this out of it." The sincerity in your voice just seems to piss Karkat off, because he scowls and looks away.

"I'm perfectly fine." He says in a clipped voice. "And even if I wasn't, I sure as shit don't need you to look out for me. I can handle myself, Dave." He starts to speed up, trying to get away from you and put an end to this conversation, but you don't let him.

You put a hand on Karkat's shoulder, keeping him where he is. By now, you've managed to get John's attention. He looks a little annoyed that you're both distracting him, but mostly, he's worried. You wonder if he's noticed Karkat's weird behavior, too. "Karkat." You say softly, trying to coax him into a more reasonable mood. "I'm just worried about you is all. You haven't been the same since we got here. Did something happen with your mom?"

For a second, you almost think that Karkat is going to talk to you. You can see his expression faltering - see the hesitance in his eyes. But then you mention his mom, and all bets are off.

He brushes your hand off of his shoulder, fixing you with a glare. "She is not my mom." He hisses. "Mother's don't leave their children to rot under the guise of "protecting them," but you wouldn't know about  _that_ , would you, Dave?" You open your mouth, but Karkat continues before you can get a word out. The group has stopped walking now, everyone staring at you, but he doesn't seem to notice. "Yes, poor you, Dave, your life is just fucking  _terrible_ , isn't it? A life with servants and gold out of the ass and everything you could ever want at the flick of the wrist just sucked, didn't it? It sucked  _so badly_ , that you just  _had_ to leave, huh? You had to force yourself into the lives of those who didn't ask for your bullshit, and you know what? Everyone's lives would be so much better right now if you had just  _stayed put_." He's practically seething at you by the time he's done. Your mouth is still open, but you don't know what to say. Karkat must see the hurt in your eyes, because he hesitates, and for a moment, he almost looks guilty. But then he shoves that away and his gaze hardens. "Leave me alone. And stop pretending as if you actually understand me,  _your highness_." He spits sarcastically. Karkat gives you a mock bow, and then turns and stomps away, back down the hall where you came from.

You think that what makes it hurt the most is the fact that he's right.

After a moment, John sighs. "I'll go talk to him." He murmurs, turning to you. He wraps you in a tight hug, and you let yourself cling to him like that lifeline that he is. "Don't listen to him, Dave." John whispers into your ear. "He's just upset. This is a big adjustment, you know? I'm sure that Karkat didn't mean that." He pulls back before you're ready to let go, and waves Jade over. You lean into her instead, just as grateful for her hug as you were for John's. You're too afraid to ask her if Karkat was right. Would her life be better if you had never been in it?

The only answer that you can come up with that makes any sort of sense is "yes" and it twists your heart painfully.

Once John is gone, running around the corner after Karkat, Rose clears her throat. "Yes, well," she sighs, "we might as well continue on with the tour while we wait for them. Any objections?"

You feel Jade shift next to you, and then raise her hand awkwardly. "Um, actually, I could use some help with… Dave." Her cheeks are red with embarrassment as she explains. "He's, uh, not exactly light, so if anyone could help me out here…"

From the front end of the group, Vriska groans, and you take a moment to steady yourself. Anything that she's about to say isn't going to be good - you can tell already. "Why is he even here, anyway?" She asks, a scowl set on her face as she approaches you. That's pretty much what you expected from her, so your face remains impassive and blank. "It's clear to me even from the front of this stupid tour group that he doesn't care, so why don't we just put him in his room and leave him there until he can do something useful?"

You're surprised when Terezi is the one who ends up speaking up for you. "Vriska, that's enough." She says flatly, coming up from behind her partner to stand next to you.

Vriska actually looks surprised for a moment, until her gaze hardens and her glare is fixed on Terezi. "I should have known that you would go soft on me." She spits with abhor. "Taking his side? We used to mock people like this, Terezi, so what changed?"

Terezi stiffens, insulted, and her calm exterior gives way to anger. "You mean that  _you_ would mock them!" She shoots back. "I wouldn't stop you, because I always wanted to believe that you were joking. After… after what happened to  _him_ , I thought that you couldn't possibly be so cruel, but I guess that I was wrong!"

"You leave  _him_ out of this!" Vriska launches right back, taking a warning step forward. "He has nothing to do with how… pathetic you've gotten."

With a sarcastic laugh, Terezi rolls her eyes. "What's pathetic about standing up for your friend?" That catches you off guard. You didn't know that Terezi thought of you like a friend. "He's gotten enough shit from Karkat already, and he sure doesn't need the same damn thing from you, Vriska."

There's a pause. Hesitation from both girls. You think that Vriska might actually just back down and leave it be, but then she shakes her head, disgusted. "Really? You're going to side with him over me?" She points at you accusingly. "Without me, you would just be a lost little blind girl abandoned at the market by her father. You might still even be wandering those stalls, crying out for a man who left you, if I hadn't come along, and you know it."

That seems to strike a nerve. Terezi recoils as if burned, her hands automatically going to the sleeve around her eyes. "You… you don't know that." She says through clenched teeth. "I could have found a way without you." She tries to insist, but Vriska is already shaking her head.

"No." Vriska replies, and there's such certainty in her voice that even you believe her. "You couldn't have." Her words hang in the still air for a moment, and you see uncertainty crease Terezi's brow. "I'll be in my room when you get done pitying people who are beneath you." She brushes by you without a second glance, turning around the corner back the way she came and disappearing from sight.

You can't help but feel largely responsible for the awkward silence that fills the space. Maybe Vriska is right. You should just stay out of the way until you can actual do something without constantly needing help.

"Dave." Terezi says suddenly, breaking the silence. "I remembered that I have a new herb mixture that I want to apply to your wound." She puts your arm around her shoulders, one arm going around your waist to keep you secure. "You all continue the tour." She says dismissively. "I'll take care of Dave."

You see Rose share a look of confusion with Kanaya, but then she shrugs, and nods. "Very well." She agrees. "Have fun with your herb mixture, you two."

The sound of Rose's boring tour guide voice picks up behind you as she leads the remainder of the group away. Terezi is surprisingly strong, or at least, she's very good at keeping her complaints to herself as she leads you down the hallway.

You let the silence linger between the two of you. It's not too awkward, and you appreciate that you can just have a quiet moment to think. "Thanks." You say once your room comes into view. You bunk with Sollux, but he's still with the tour, so you aren't worried about being interrupted. "For, uh, standing up for me back there. You and Vriska have been together for a while. I know that that couldn't have been easy."

Terezi is quiet for so long that you start thinking that she isn't going to reply at all. You open your bedroom door and she sets you down on your bed, but instead of leaving like you expected her to, she turns away from you and sighs. "Vriska is… a challenge." She says finally. "But she's right. About a lot of things." She reaches up to touch her blindfold, and you swallow thickly.

"Even…" You start, and Terezi turns her head just marginally as if she can actually see you, "what she said about you being nothing without her? That was true?"

Another sigh. Terezi reaches behind her head, fiddling with the knot of her blindfold. It takes you a moment to realize that she's going to take it off. "Yes." She admits quietly, her back to you so that you can't see her face as she folds up her blindfold and rubs it with her thumbs. "I wasn't born blind, you know. To this day, I still don't know why, but… my mom had some dangerous enemies. She gave it all up when she fell in love with my dad, and they ran away to settle down and start a life. They had me." She had to pause, taking a shaky sigh. "I don't know how, but her past caught up. Her enemies found her. They found our little house. Dad was out. I remember that he was working, but I don't remember what he did. I don't think that I ever asked. But I tried to protect my mom when they came after her with knives - I got in front of her and demanded that the men leave our house. They laughed. She begged. I was allowed to live, but… I still had to pay for my insolence." Terezi turns to you then, and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of her. "I paid with my sight. I don't know what they did to her. I just remember her screaming and screaming - for hours, it seemed like, but I never saw a thing."

Across both eyes, a long, clean and very deliberately cut scar trails from one temple to the other. Her eyes look slashed and torn, and her eyelids are closed to hide most of the damage, but you can see scars over those, too, like they were cut right through to get to her eyes. You're too horrified to gag. Terezi manages a weak smile - as if sensing your reaction. "And besides. I was a little too busy being in agony to really pay attention after that."

She lets your process this, quiet, and after a moment, you manage, "But… Vriska said that your dad… he…?"

Terezi offers a shrug, taking her blindfold and tying it over her eyes again. You hate yourself for feeling relieved. "He took me into the market a week later. We got separated. I never heard from him again. Somehow, Vriska found me, curled up in a corner and trying my damnedest to cry." She laughs a little. "I can't cry anymore, but sometimes I want to. Like I did then. And Vriska…" Terezi reaches up to run her fingers along the edge of her blindfold. "Well, she gave me back my sight. It was a ritual of sorts, I guess. I don't know how to describe it, since I didn't see it. But her- you know that orb that she uses to see the future?" You nod. It's become blatantly clear to you that Vriska has one, like your sister. "She used to be able to see so much further." Terezi manages a weak chuckle. "But she gave up half of her power and gave it to me. It's in my head. It's not a perfect replica of vision. What I see is every possibility at any given moment, blurring together. There's a possibility that you and I stayed with the tour, and I see that, too, but it's faint underneath all of the paths that led us here. This was the most likely outcome, and the one that I wanted."

You hesitate for a moment, and then ask, "Does it ever get confusing?" Terezi arches a brow. "I mean, seeing all of those things at once. Do they ever get hard to handle?"

Terezi starts to shake her head, and then shrugs. "Sometimes." She admits. "Not as often as you might think. Most things have a very solid outcome. A lot of the variation comes from the way your lips move. I guess that there are a lot of different questions you could ask or things you could say at any given time? The Sight that Vriska gave me doesn't come with sound, so hearing what people are talking about helps me figure out which version I need to focus on. Worse comes to worse, I see a big mess of color and movement and get a migraine. I can't close my eyes against shit like that, so I have to live with it every second from when I wake up to when I go to sleep. At least my dreams are normal."

You nod, processing this. "So… that's why you put up with Vriska?" You ask. "Because she gave you a way to see again?"

Pursing her lips, Terezi gives a shake of the head. "Not exactly." She admits. "What Vriska and I have is… complicated. She did more than give me vision. She gave me a life. We were strangers when she did this for me, and I still don't know what compelled her to do it. Maybe it was something in that stupid orb of hers. Either way… she's like a sister to me. No matter what she says, she's still my best friend. I owe her that much, at least. And if it comes down to it… I know that she would die for me every time, and I would do the same for her." Terezi cracks a smile. "And I don't need an orb for that prediction."

You're quiet for a minute. That's an awful lot to process. You don't even bother sorting through the bits about her relationship with Vriska. You can never hope to understand something as complicated as what they have. In fact, you're kind of scared to try. It's best just to leave it be. You trust Terezi to make the right calls when it comes to her.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" You sigh finally. "We barely know each other. That's… a lot of personal stuff, Terezi."

You hold your breath, worried that asking that is crossing the line. Terezi seems to be actually thinking about it though, her head tilted slightly and her sightless eyes locked on you from behind the blindfold. "Because we're the same." She says finally, taking a seat on your bed next to you. "This right here?" She pokes your stomach, where your wound is, and you wince. "To Vriska, it's a flaw. It means that you're broken and unable to do anything useful. You're incomplete. Like I am." She stops for a moment, and you're quiet, waiting for her to continue. "Vriska thinks that because she gave me sight, she's "fixed" me. She always liked trying to fix people, but she has weird standards for who she sees as "worthy of her time." For example, did you know that she has her eye on John?" You raise an eyebrow at that. John? Really? "I know it's weird, but she seems to think that he has all of this potential. She sees his kindness as the thing that needs to be fixed. I can tell that you don't like when I flirt with him, Dave, but believe it or not, I'm doing him a favor. Vriska doesn't respect a lot of things, but she'll respect the boundaries I set. So, if I say, "he's mine," then Vriska…" She trails off, waiting for you to catch up.

It takes you a couple of seconds. "Seriously?" You almost laugh. " _That's_  why you flirt with John so blatantly? So that she'll leave him alone? I thought it was because you had some weird kink for brunettes."

Now it's Terezi's turn to laugh, and she does, shaking her head. "Oh, God, no." She grins. "I fucking hate John. But Vriska has more important things to worry about than what pathetic boy needs her "assistance" today. I'm doing both of them a favor. And, for the record," you practically hear a wink in her voice, "I happen to like blondes."

You scoff. "Please. Vriska would have a heart attack and then kill me if we started going out." You say, as if that's the only reason why you wouldn't date Terezi. You have a multitude of reasons, actually, none of which you care to mention.

"As if." Terezi rolls her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself, Dave. You're not my type. And even if you were, it has been explained to me  _in excruciating detail_ that you are off the market."

You take a moment to figure out what that means. "Wait." You blink. "Did Jade… say something to you about this?" That doesn't seem at all like her. You weren't even friends with Terezi until a few minutes ago.

"Jade?" Terezi frowns. "Why would Jade-? Oh, right. You're "dating" her." She sighs. "No, it wasn't Jade. Good God, are you really that dense?" You start to cut in, but Terezi is on her feet before you can, words tumbling out of her mouth. "At any rate, it's not my place to tell you. I promised that I wouldn't, and I am nothing if not honest. Now, this has been fun, Dave, but you've already asked enough questions for one day. I'm going to rejoin the tour. You…" she turns her head to "look over her shoulder" at you, "you just stay there and take a nap. I don't need you getting an infection and dying on me." And then she's gone, left the room and closed the door behind her before you could get so much as a word in edgewise.

These girls are going to be the death of you, you swear it.

You listen to her and recline back on the bed anyway, because there's not really a lot for you to do besides rest. And think about all of the things that happened in the last ten minutes.

You wonder who told Terezi that you're off the market. You certainly didn't say that, and you aren't sure how you feel about someone speaking for you like that. Could it have been John? You know that he would hate to see Jade hurt, even by his best friend, but you don't think that he would have told Terezi that. She's too busy clinging to him at every opportunity for John to even consider that she might be into you. Which she said that she's not, but  _someone_ must be worried about her flirting with you to tell her off like they did.

Could it have been Karkat? You don't really see why. He seems to detest the very mention of your romantic life. And to be honest, you kind of do, too. It's not like you've had a lot of success with it. Jade is your first girlfriend and you never even wanted to date her at all. Thinking about breaking it off makes you uncomfortable, though. You don't want to hurt Jade, but what else are you going to do? You don't see yourself ever getting married to her, and you don't want to trap Jade in a dead-end relationship when she could be happy with a boy that actually loves her the way she wants him to.

That makes you think. Would Karkat be a good option for Jade? You think that he likes her. It would explain why he's being so short with you, seeing as how he knows that you don't love her like that, but you're dating her anyway. You know that Karkat doesn't think that the two of you should be an item, so it's possible that you're right. Does he have a thing for Jade? You'll ask him, and maybe work on setting them up. He can be the rebound guy. Of course, you could always be overestimating Jade's emotional dependency on you. It's possible that you could break up with her and she'll just shrug it off and be fine with it, but if not…

You just don't want her to be miserable. Then, you'll feel terrible and John will beat the shit out of you for hurting his cousin. You don't doubt that he could do it. You would probably let him.

You wonder if John would hurt you while knowing that you're already badly hurt. He would definitely get one punch in, at least. Maybe the face. He would probably go for your nose, but "beat the shit out of you" is probably a little extreme of you. John is a friendly guy, and usually, he's pretty reasonable. Most of his damage would probably come from what he would  _say_ over what he would  _do_.

And you really don't want to lose your best friend.

You wish that you had to get around by yourself that didn't hurt or take up a lot of time. You hate being in bed like this. It's boring when you're not tired, and it eventually gets to this point where no position is comfortable for more than a few minutes at a time. You don't want to spend all day trapped in your thoughts. Thinking about these sorts of things is just depressing you. But what else is there for you to do?

A quiet, tentative knock sounds at your door. You're grateful for the distraction, regardless of who it ends up being. "Come in." You call to them, pushing yourself into a sitting position. Or, at least, attempting to.

The door eases open, and Karkat steps into the room. He looks much less angry than he was before. You don't think that the look on his face is regret exactly, though. He looks… kind of sad? Regardless, he comes over to help you into a sitting position, one hand on your back to offer support, and the other on your shoulder.

"Thanks." You huff out once you're sitting up, despite how embarrassed you feel over needing someone's help to get this far. It's funny how you used to take something like walking for granted, and now you would love to be allowed to do that.

Karkat doesn't say anything. You're waiting and waiting for an apology or even just a "you're welcome," but nothing comes. Finally, you give up, looking up at Karkat, one eyebrow arched above your shades, expectant. That seems to shake him from his thoughts, and Karkat flushes a light shade of red. "Sorry." He says. "I was just…" He trails off, avoiding your gaze, and then clears his throat, his eyes snapping back over to you. "You know what? Forget it. It's not important. I should focus on what I came here to do." There's a pause, like Karkat is waiting for you to say something, but you don't give him anything. You're still expecting that apology for his earlier behavior. Finally, he sighs, giving in. "So, John told me that I crossed a line earlier." Karkat begins awkwardly. "Which, rest assured, was my complete intention." Your stoic mask turns to confusion. Why would Karkat actually be trying to hurt you? "I told John why I had to, and he told me that I am, quote, "being a complete fucking dumbass" and that I have to apologize and explain myself to you personally as soon as possible, so in the interest of not making him even madder…" Karkat sits down on your bed and clears his throat, looking at his hands clasped on his lap instead of at your face. "I'm sorry for what I said, Dave. I mean, it was all true, but I still shouldn't have said it. The truth is… you're very important to me. The three years we spent together before I ruined it all by stabbing you, well… those were the best three years of my life. Easily. I consider you my best friend. Which is very dangerous in my line of work. The last time I had a best friend, he-" Karkat stops talking abruptly, hesitating. "Well, it didn't go well. I'll tell you the details sometime. But what I've been trying to do ever since you woke up is put some distance between us. I'm sure that you've noticed. I am  _trying_ to get you to hate me, Dave, because you liking me is just going to go badly for you. And believe it or not, but I would really rather  _not_ have you dying any time soon, so just say the word. Yell at me and reject my apology and refuse to so much as look upon me ever again so that our friendship can officially be over and you can be safe."

You don't reply for a long, long time. At first, you're angry, and Karkat squirms under the intensity of your stare, even with your shades on. You're still angry. That's the fucking stupidest thing you've ever heard, made even stupider by the fact that Karkat is telling the truth. You can tell. It infuriates you that he thinks that he can get rid of you that easily. That he thinks any number of excuses will get rid of you. But you start to consider things from his point of view, and you calm down some. It… makes sense. Kind of. You know that Karkat has been hurt in the past before, but you're not going to press for details. Not yet, anyway. Maybe you'll ask Karkat one day, but that's not the issue at the moment. Of course you forgive Karkat. All you wanted was an explanation, and you got one, even if you don't really like it. And you understand where he's coming from. You would do anything to protect the people that you care about, too. Well, you wouldn't push them away, but you guess that you don't really know where Karkat is coming from on this one. Maybe pushing away is all he knows how to do.

Finally, you sigh. Karkat looks up at you, his eyes big with anxiousness and hope.

"I forgive you." You say. " _But_ , you have to promise me that you'll stop with this bullshit of getting me to hate you. I can say with 100% certainty that I would rather die with you as my friend than live without you in my life at all."

You could tell that Karkat was going to insist on his stupid thing about not being friends, but what you say has him thinking. He looks surprised by the statement - as if shocked that anyone could possibly care about him that much. And you really do. Karkat may not be the friend that you've known for the longest, but he's definitely one of your best. "You mean that?" He asks in a small voice.

Something inside of you breaks just a little bit at the tone in his voice.

Has no one ever-? Christ, what kind of life has this kid  _had_? Your expression softens, and despite the pain it causes you to do so, you lean forward to envelop Karkat in a hug. "Of course." You say gently into his head. "I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

Karkat manages this little laugh that is somehow sad and relieved at the same time, his arms going around your waist as he hugs you back tight. "You're too good to me, you know." He says quietly into the crook of your neck.

You just shrug, smiling. "Maybe." You murmur. "But you're going to keep letting me do it, right?"

"Do I even have a choice?" Karkat sighs.

You shake your head. "None whatsoever." That earns you a more genuine laugh, and your smile widens. God, Karkat is so cute. It's unthinkable that you couldn't be his friend.

After a moment, you pull out of the hug and get comfortable on the bed again. You like holding Karkat. He's almost unnaturally warm, and small enough that he slots just about perfectly into your arms. You wonder if you could convince him to cuddle with you sometime. An… odd request, sure, but you think that you can manage it. Some other time, though. For now, you have business to attend to.

"Hey." You speak up, and Karkat stops staring into space long enough to give you his attention. "As fun as it was becoming your best friend again, think you can help me with something? I'm getting a little tired of needing help to get around, so I had this idea that I could use your help with pulling off."

You see Karkat hesitate, thinking it over, and then he gives a begrudging nod. "Sure." He agrees. "What did you have in mind?"

* * *

"For the record," Karkat remarks, disapproval in his voice as he finishes hammering the wheel into place, "this is a terrible idea."

You had Karkat leave the base to find two, small wheels for you. He went to the storage shed where the rebellion keeps their carriages. Apparently, it's just a mile east from the ladder entrance that Rose showed to all of you. He found two spare wheels in the back of the large building, unusually small for a carriage, so he didn't think that they would be missed. That, combined with a hammer and a few nails and the chair that came with your room, gave you the amazing creation in front of you.

And by "amazing," you mean that there's a very real possibility o you breaking your neck in this thing.

"You're the one who built it for me, anyway." You point out, sitting in the chair that Karkat had spent the past hour adjusting. You lean back a little, hesitantly, and lift the front legs of the chair off of the floor. Immediately, the wheels kick in and you go rolling backward. You almost cry out, but then there are hands on the back of your chair, keeping you from slamming the back of your head against the ground. You look up at Karkat, giving a sheepish grin, and he sighs and rolls his eyes.

He can pretend all that he wants, but you can see the smile that he's suppressing.

Karkat helps you back upright, and this time, you're smart enough to not lean back in your wheel chair. "Yeah, and I regret it." He says, coming around the stand in front of you. He's frowning, thinking about something. "This chair is poorly made and just barely functional, but… I think that it will at least help other people push you around a little easier." Karkat admits, albeit unhappily. "At least, until we can figure out a way to make it so that you can push yourself. But good luck leaning back, pushing the wheels, and not falling into your back in the process."

You don't let Karkat's slandering of your genius ruin your good mood. You can definitely roll back without needing to lift off the ground, but it's difficult, and the legs of your chair squeak and squeal painfully along the ground in the process. You quickly stop rolling back. You'll only do that in an emergency.

Rubbing his chin in thought, Karkat makes his way around you, frowning. "I wish that this had handles or something." He mused. "It would make it easier to push you everywhere."

You think about that for a moment. "You could get Sollux to add on handles." You suggest. "I remember dad mentioning a while back that Sollux used to be a carpenter. Pretty good at it, too, from what I was told." Your dad like to mention the most bizarre details of the staff. You don't know why. Thanks to him, you know that the head chef likes cherry wine, the captain of the guard has had three wives, and apparently, his ex-advisor is also an ex-carpenter.

"Really?" Karkat seems surprised to hear that. "I would never have pegged Sollux as a carpenter, but okay. I'll ask him sometime. I wonder why he quit."

You shrug. "Don't know. Might he have needed something with more money after he got married? Raising a family isn't cheap, you know." You sigh. "It's terrible - what happened to his wife." You tsk sadly, shaking your head as you frown.

"He told you about that?" Karkat raises an eyebrow. "I didn't think that you two were close enough for personal things like that."

You shake your head. "No, my dad complained about it a lot." You explained. "Not his wife dying - but Sollux took a month off afterward, he was so heartbroken. Dad didn't like being without an adviser, so I had the absolute pleasure of listening to him gripe about it." You really do feel bad for Sollux, though. You could never understand what that must feel like - to have your wife murdered and be left with nothing more than her lifeless body. No witnesses, no evidence besides the stab wound, and no leads or suspects to be heard of. Just your wife dead. You don't know all of the details, but you don't think that Sollux ever got a reason either, since no murderer was ever found. Not that a reason would make it any better, but he hasn't had any kind of closure. That must be horrible to have to live with.

Karkat sighs. "Yeah, that couldn't have been any fun…" he murmurs, and the room lapses into silence. It doesn't stay quiet for very long. After a moment of this, Karkat claps his hands together, seeming eager to change the subject. "Alright. How about we give this chair a test drive and take our own little tour of this poorly laid-out base?"

You nod. "Sure." You agree. "If we find Sollux, we can probably talk to him about attaching handles then, but for now…" You lean back in your chair, lifting the front legs off the ground in a momentary lapse of intelligence. The wheels roll you backward, a very unmanly shriek catching in your throat as Karkat stops you from hitting the ground at the last second.

His hands on either arm of the chair, Karkat sighs with exasperation as he pulls you toward him and gradually puts you back in the upright position. "Correct me if I'm wrong," he says in a low, almost deep voice, "but didn't we just get done talking about why you shouldn't lean back in your chair?"

"Um…" Your face has gone red, and you're having problems remembering how to speak. Why is Karkat so close to your face? And why is your body reacting positively to it? You squirm in discomfort, looking away. "Y-Yeah, we did. Sorry." You say, surprised when your voice comes out more… shy than you expected.

At the very least, your behavior seems to get Karkat to realize just how close he is. Any closer, and he would be on your lap. His ears go pink at the tips, and he clears his throat, stepping back. "Right. Well, uh…" Karkat sighs, going to stand behind you. His hands rest on the back of your chair, and he tilts you back just a little to push you forward. You can tell that balancing you isn't exactly easy, but it must be better than half-carrying, half-dragging you everywhere, because Karkat doesn't remark on it. "I guess we'll just get going then. Can you open the door?"

The door is a pull, which is awkward to maneuver your chair around at first, but you and Karkat get the hang of it after a moment. You can't appreciate the weird looks that people give you as you pass them by. Your thoughts are on that weird moment you just had with Karkat. Your face is still red from it, which you don't really understand. You don't feel… embarrassed enough to still be red, so why do your cheeks feel like they're burning up?

You decide to think about it later. Karkat has indicated you to the library for whatever reason, so you open the door for him and he wheels you in. The library is actually much smaller than the name implies. Unlike the grand, sprawling library you're used to back at home, the one here is very small and cramped. There are about ten bookshelves lining the walls, crammed so full of books that they look just about ready to explode off of the shelves. There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to how the books are placed. The color isn't a factor, neither is the title, and most of the books don't even have authors listed, so that method is out of the question. Mostly, the library is treated as a study. And, true to fashion, Sollux is seated at one of the nearby tables, scratching away at a piece of parchment with his quill. Most of the room are tables, and most of them are empty. There are only two other people in the room, neither of whom you recognize. They must already be a part of the rebellion.

Karkat, of course, ignores them, wheeling you straight over to Sollux. At first, he's so absorbed in whatever he's writing that he doesn't even notice the two of you approach. But the sound of your wheels creaking as they turn must catch his attention, because he lifts his head to look up at the two of you. The look on Sollux's face is absolutely priceless. You wish that you could somehow save it to look at whenever you need a pick-me up. He looks somewhere between disgusted, confused, and kind of fascinated, and it's honestly one of the funniest expressions that you've ever seen on one person's face.

You and Karkat stop in front of him, not saying anything as you wait for Sollux's reaction to your wheeled chair. His interest must win out, because he sighs and tucks his papers away so that you can't read them, and turns completely in his chair to face you. "Okay." He says after a moment. "I give up. What the fuck is this?"

It's possible that you are a little too proud of yourself. "It's a chair with wheels." You say with a self-satisfied sort of grin. "I came up with the idea, and I had Karkat put it together in exchange for my forgiveness." You indicate to him, and Karkat gives a nod of recognition.

Sollux rolls his eyes, but you can see him suppressing a smile from the absurdity of it all as he looks over the chair. "Yeah, I can tell. The handwork is downright awful."

Karkat scoffs, kicking at Sollux's hand when he tries to touch the nails keeping the wheels in place. "Let's see you do better, then, jackass. And, as it just so happens, that's exactly what we came to you to talk about."

That seems to catch Sollux off guard. He lifts his head from where he's inspecting the functionality of your chair, blinking. "You…" He struggles with words for a moment. "You know about that? But I haven't done anything like that since Ara…" Sollux trails off without finishing his sentence, and you frown. You didn't know that he had an emotional connection to his old job.

"Look, Sollux, if you don't want to-" You start, but he shakes his head, holding a hand up to signal you to be quiet.

He frowns, rubbing his chin as he thinks. "No." He says after a minute of thought. "I want to do this." To dispel some of the tension, he manages a smile. "It's the least I can do. No prince worth his weight in gold would be caught dead wheeling around in something like that." You crack a smile at his little joke.

"Yeah, I'm really feeling the appreciation over here, guys." Karkat says sarcastically, giving a roll of his eyes. "You know, I don't have to do anything for you at all."

You chuckle, tilting your head back to look at him, and reach up to pap Karkat on the cheek gently. "Oh, you know we love you." You coo at him in a teasing voice.

Sollux grins. "And you love Dave." He adds in. For some reason, that makes Karkat blush.

You're happy when he doesn't protest, though. You know that Karkat loves you, and you love him. Maybe he's just embarrassed because he's not very comfortable with his masculinity and doesn't want to be too affectionate. You don't have that problem anymore. When you were ten years old, your father began to school you on the ideals a king must follow. Everything from how you walk, how you talk, to how you present yourself in public, and even how you're supposed to treat your wife depending on who else is in the room. There are mind-boggling standards for a king to uphold. You realized a long time ago that you weren't going to be able to meet these expectations. And falling in love with John helped you accept that you didn't care about those standards, anyway.

"So, you think that you can fix up my chair?" You direct the question back at Sollux, trying to stay on topic. As fun as teasing Karkat is, you can tell when he's starting to get uncomfortable, so you let it drop.

"Uh…" Sollux hesitates, then nods. "Yeah, of course I can. The first thing we're going to do, though, is find a chair that's actually comfortable to sit in long term. I'm thinking something with plush…"

* * *

You don't know how long Sollux works on your chair for, but it takes up a good portion of the rest of the day. You ask Rose if she has any wood or a log that Sollux can carve into, and also ask if she knows where to find some tools for him to use to begin with. Like, a saw, a chisel, a hammer, and some more nails, to name a few.

Rose gives you an odd look, but to her credit, she doesn't ask any questions. She gets you the wood that you need, and while she doesn't have access to a lot of the tools that Sollux asked for, she does get you most of them. And Sollux admits that he hadn't been expecting her to have everything, so it's fine.

He does the best that he can with limited supplies, and you openly admit that you're impressed. You find a more comfortable chair, first of all, and you did check with Rose to make sure that it was okay to use before taking it. It's like your old chair, but much less rigid, and with a padded seat and back rest. Sollux used the wheels from the old chair for this one, too, hammering them in a little lower down than Karkat had them to give you some height. Per Karkat's request, he went ahead and carved two sets of handles. They were just two curved pieces of wood, but Karkat was happy with them, so Sollux nailed them into place on the back of the chair for you. The biggest problem for them both was getting around the front legs of the chair. Sollux had a very simple solution: cutting little circles out of the wood and nailing them to the front legs.

At first, you weren't too sure, but Sollux put them in place anyway and made a demonstration of rolling them. The only probably was that your chair could only go straight in one direction. Turns would require you or whoever is pushing you to put in a lot of extra effort. Sollux showed you this, too. He picked up the chair just an inch off the ground, turning it to the left. So turns would be just about impossible to do by yourself without getting up. You didn't think that it would be too much of a problem, though. You can't even use the chamber pot alone with all of the worrying that your friends did.

"You're sure that this is safe?" Karkat is asking now, eyeing the finished project.

"What? You doubt me?" Sollux fakes a look of offense, and then rolls his eyes. "Relax, KK, I wouldn't put Dave in this chair if I thought that it was going to end up killing him. Trust me a little here."

You don't really have the patience for this. "Karkat, come on, stop your worrying and let's go show Rose." You say eagerly, untangling yourself from Karkat and sitting down in your wheeled chair. You grab the wheels on either side of you, rolling yourself back experimentally. The chair isn't as heavy as you thought it would be, and this goes pretty smoothly. The wheels are a little awkward to get your hands on, but you can't really complain. The chair is pretty much amazing, and you feel lucky to have friends willing to go something like this for you at all.

You can see Karkat trying not to smile, so you wheel up to him, which is much easier than going backward. You nudge his foot with yours, and Karkat raises an amused eyebrow. "Want to go find Rose?" You ask with a grin. "C'mon, you know you want to."

"How could I resist a face like that?" Karkat asks dryly. But he gives in, going around you to grab the handles Sollux crafted.

Before he can start pushing you, you turn to Sollux. "And, uh, thanks." You say a little hesitantly. "For doing this. You didn't have to. I really appreciate it."

Sollux just nods, a little smile on his face. "Don't mention it. It was… actually pretty fun to do some woodworking again." He replies. "I didn't realize that I missed it until you brought it up. So, I should be the one thanking you."

You give a smile, and Karkat rolls his eyes fondly, pushing you towards the door. You've been working in yours and Sollux's room this whole time, but now you're going to find Rose and show her your chair. You think that the look on her face will be even better than Sollux's.

It isn't exactly the smoothest ride once Karkat starts pushing you down the hall, but you don't complain and neither does he. This is easier for him than carrying you, you think. You still would like to walk, but you can't do so without putting yourself in pain and you don't want everyone worrying over you, so this is just easier. And pretty convenient, until you need to climb a ladder, that is.

The chattering of voices catches your attention. It's coming from around the corner up ahead, and Karkat seems to be able to read your mind, because he doesn't need to ask before pushing you around the corner. You recognize Terezi's and Vriska's voices before you see them. "Hey, guys." You say as you turn the bend to see them, giving a little wave.

For some reason, neither of them say a single word. They're both looking at your chair, but their expressions aren't… right. Vriska looks like she's going to be sick, and Terezi's face says "oh, shit." You don't really know what to say.

And, as it turns out, you don't need to say anything. Vriska's look of horror gives way to anger. "You…" Her fingers curl into fists, and she takes a step forward, shaking. "You…!" You think that she's going to punch you, but Vriska surprises you at the last moment, pivoting on her heel and taking off running down the hall.

"Vriska!" Terezi calls after her, and then sighs with frustration once she's gone. "Fuck." She runs a hand through her hair, and then turns back to face you.

You and Karkat just stare at her for a moment. "What's with her?" You can hear the lack of interest in Karkat's voice. "Or is it just some more needless drama and nothing is actually wrong?"

Terezi shakes her head. "Karkat, you really need to stop being so hard on her." You can just about  _feel_ Karkat's disbelief at this statement, but he doesn't cut in. "I realize that Vriska isn't exactly a nice person, but she's been through a lot. You could at least attempt trying to understand her before you jump right to being a dick."

You hear Karkat scoff, but ignore it. "So, you do know what that was about?" You ask, indicating back down the hall where Vriska ran off too.

"Well… yeah." Terezi says a little hesitantly. "Vriska tells me everything. And, um, I'm not going to be telling you guys her whole sob story - because it's not really my place - but…" She sighs. "I guess the wheelchair upsets her because her brother was in a wheelchair, too."

You feel Karkat's attitude shift when he hears that. "She has a brother?" He asks in a soft voice.

Pressing her lips into a thin line, Terezi shrugs. "Uh, kinda? She  _had_ a brother. His name was Tavros, and his legs… kinda didn't work, so their parents made a chair with wheels kind of like that one to help him get around so that he wasn't stuck inside his whole life. But, uh," She coughs awkwardly, "he… came down with a slight case of… death, and, um, Vriska blames the whole thing on herself. She hates to be reminded of him." Terezi explains.

You nod. "Can you tell her that I'm sorry?" You ask quietly. "I didn't mean to upset Vriska like that." You really didn't. As unpleasant to you as Vriska sometimes is, you don't want to be cruel right back.

"It's not your fault." Terezi says dismissively. "You didn't mean it. I'm… going to go after her. She needs someone to comfort her when things like this happen." She turns to walk away, but the pauses, and looks back at you, giving a smile. "And, um, nice job on the chair." You just nod, giving a little parting wave, and then Terezi starts walking and is gone, after her best friend.

Sometimes, you really wish that things would stop being so complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I did do some research. There are reports of very old fashioned wheelchairs appearing around this time period (I'm gonna say that this is about the 1600s - 1700s? My previous guess for the time period I'm putting this in was wrong. Sorry for that). So, no, I'm not being completely unrealistic with this. But you might have to use some suspension of disbelief.


	25. I'm Only A Fool For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Cause I have hella feelings for you.  
> I act like I don't fucking care, like they ain't even there.  
> 'Cause I have hella feelings for you.  
> I act like I don't fucking care, 'cause I'm so fucking scared.

"Here's what I expect from you all." Disciple's quiet, sorrowful behavior from the first time you met her is completely gone now, replaced with the confidence and control that you would expect from the leader of a rebellion. "I did not grant Rose permission to bring you all here just so that you could take up space. I expect you to apply yourselves wherever you can, be it as fighters or tacticians, or even just cooks. God knows that we could use someone with actual skill in the kitchen. You can all talk to Rose about finding a job here once this meeting is over, but for now, I'm going to talk to you all about what this organization stands for." She clears her throat and stops pacing at the front of the room to turn to your group, sitting at the table and staring at her expectantly. "This is a group that I formed myself. We are funded by donations, the salary that other members earn and volunteer to pay forwards, and…" She coughs awkwardly, embarrassed by this next part, "I do know a few ways into the Prospitian palace. When we get particularly low on coins, I'll… "borrow" money from the treasury. Prospit is doing remarkably well. The economy is higher than ever. They haven't noticed a single thing missing. Anyway-" she goes over to one of the many bookshelves in the room, grabbing a map that is large enough to take up an entire shelf. Unraveling it, Disciples holds it up for you all to see.

On a piece of worn parchment, someone had sketched and illustrated the entire continent of Skaia and all of its countries. Of those countries, three have been crossed out with a bold strike of red ink, the word "Lost" scribbled over their names.

"This is a map of Skaia," Disciple informs you all. No one feels the need to tell her that everyone already knew that. "The countries marked with red have been conquered by the Condesce. Her family has been working on this for generations, so I can't give her all of the credit. It's probably not surprising to know that her next goal is Derse." She points to your kingdom on the map. "After that, Morgona, where you all are right now. We're just passed the line that officially puts us on Morgona territory. Our end goal is to stop the Condesce from ruling all of Skaia. So far, her family has used lies and cheats and backstabbing to swipe the throne right out from under kings and queens, all without causing alarm. Most people don't want to interfere. What she's doing isn't common knowledge, to be fair. The king of Morgona, for example, refuses to believe that she is a real threat, and his people have never even heard of her at all. I've been trying to get his help for years now, but he still won't believe me, insisting that the real queen of Prospit was killed long ago and that I'm just a crazy conspiracist." She sighs with agitation, rolling the map back up and putting it away. "None of you have to get involved with the Condesce directly, but we can always use more spies or strategists. I think that that covers everything. Rose?" Your sister stands up when Disciple indicates to her, a leather-bound journal in her hands and a quill in the other, the tip already wet with ink. "You can all talk to Rose about what you want to do. She'll answer all of your questions. In the meantime, I'm going to go check on the progress of our newest hallway. Try not to need me." Disciple exits the room, and with her goes all of the formality, as you all start talking at once.

It doesn't surprise you to hear everyone already brainstorming about what they want to do. John and Jade want to work in the kitchens together. You think that it's cute, and you spend longer than you care to admit watching John adamantly explain to Jade how to make a properly fluffy whipped cream topping. After that, job requests trickle in. Vriska wants to be a battle strategist. Terezi wants to work in first-aid. But Karkat doesn't say anything. He just stands up from where he is, sitting next to you, and walks right up to Rose.

"I want to be on the front lines," Karkat says without hesitation, his voice confident. You're kind of impressed. Rose is your own sister, but you already know that you couldn't go up to her and give your occupation that easily. Not without fearing what she might think.

But, to your complete surprise, Rose hesitates and shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Karkat." She apologizes, and she really does seem sorry, if that means anything. "But Disciple has told me that you aren't allowed to take on any job that involves fighting."

You've seen Karkat angry before. You've seen his whole face go red, and you've seen him get physical and throw punches and yell and scream so loud that God Himself must have heard his cries.

You have never seen Karkat this calm.

It terrifies you.

"Where," he says finally, his voice deathly quiet and sending a shiver down your spine, chilling you to the bone, "the fuck is this new hallway she's supervising?"

Rose barely gets the directions out before Karkat is turning away from her. You catch a glimpse of his face before he leaves the room. He doesn't even glance at you, a perfect, blank mask made purely of sheer force of will stuck to his face as the door closes with a soft click behind him.

It takes a while after that for the energy to come back into the room, and when it does, it's much more subdued than it was before. Gradually, everyone signs up for a job. Nepeta is the first, asking to be placed on the front lines. Rose lets her, and Nepeta goes to the far corner of the room to practice punching and kicks. She actually looks pretty skilled, and you have to remind yourself that, while Nepeta looks frail, she can take down a fully-grown bear with just her hands. You take notice of the lithe muscle lining her skeleton, hidden by layers of hardened skin, and remind yourself not to take her so lightly. You have never seen Nepeta this serious and focused before. You're starting to get worried.

Meeting your expectations, John and Jade team up for cooking duty. Sollux wants to work in the horse stables for whatever reason, and do carpentry on the side as it's needed. Vriska becomes a tactician, and Terezi wants to be a nurse, despite Vriska's insistence that she can do better. It doesn't spiral into a full-blown argument, but you can tell that Vriska isn't happy with Terezi's choice.

The only ones not to choose yet are you and Kanaya.

Seeing as how Rose has been writing down everyone's requests and keeping track of what they all want, you aren't surprised when she looks to you, one eyebrow raised in a question. You shrug, avoiding her gaze, your hands unconsciously going to the wheels of your chair. You can always trust Rose to know you better than you know yourself. You see her nod, and just like that, the subject is dropped. For now. She'll bring it up when the two of you are alone, no doubt, but that's fine. That gives you time to prepare.

Instead, Rose turns her attention to Kanaya, who has been sitting down and staring at her hands folded in her lap this entire time. "Kanaya?" Rose asks softly, and the girl tenses before immediately relaxing.

She turns in her chair to be facing Rose a little better, looking up at her. "Yes, Rose?" Kanaya doesn't seem to have a problem talking to your sister anymore, and you're relieved. It was going to get really old, really fast if she had kept that up.

"Why haven't you picked a job yet?" Rose isn't upset. Rather, her voice is gentle and coaxing. There's something… tense between the two of them, you realize. Kanaya looks as rigid as a stick, and Rose seems concerned. Maybe Kanaya isn't as adjusted to the whole "royalty" thing as you thought. "I'm sure that a girl like you has many talents."

Kanaya shakes her head, a little bit red with embarrassment. "Not very many, unfortunately. And certainly, nothing that could be of any use to you or your cause." She goes back to looking at her skirt, her shoulders slumped with defeat.

You can see Rose thinking over her options. After taking a moment to consider it, she says, "Well, what about those dresses you brought with you? They were wonderfully made, and we can always use some help making uniforms and just regular clothes."

For a second, Kanaya perks up, but then her face creases into a frown and she shakes her head again. "No. I am sorry, Rose. My mother - I suppose she is my aunt, technically - made those, and I got them out of our house when the fire struck when she asked for me to do so. I kept them to remind myself of her. I can sew, but I am not very good at it. Nowhere near good enough for what you need. I wish that I could be of more help." Kanaya seems genuinely upset about this, blinking rapidly and turning away from your sister. You wonder if she's holding back tears.

Rose looks like she's running out of ideas, but then, almost like a last-ditch effort, she says, "How does a trial run sound?"

Wiping at her eyes with her sleeves, Kanaya looks at Rose with surprise, and maybe even a little bit of hope. "What do you mean?" She asks.

Relieved, Rose smiles. "Well, we can try it out. You can go into the job for a week or two, and if you don't like it or if you really aren't suited for it, we can always find another job for you."

Kanaya thinks about the proposal for a moment, and then she slowly gives a nod. "Y-Yes." She blinks. "I would… very much like that, Rose. Thank you." She looks like she wants to hug your sister, but she hesitates, doubtful, and then turns away. "I will give it a try, then."

You wonder why Rose suddenly looks so… disappointed. "I'll… put you down for it, then." She says, scribbling something in her journal. "I hope that you like it." She briefly sets a hand on Kanaya's shoulder, and something sparks in the other girl's eyes that you can't name.

But then Rose turns away, and the moment - whatever kind of moment they were creating - is ruined. Kanaya sinks down in her chair, and Rose leaves the room, everyone else oblivious to what you just witnessed.

What did you just witness? You wish that you knew. It shouldn't be this hard to understand your friends and just what, exactly, is happening. You really want to stop being this lost.

It is… possible that Rose was hoping to flirt with Kanaya, however unlikely. You already like members of the same gender. It can't be such a common thing that Rose is the same way. It's just not possible.

Right?

You squirm under Rose's stare, very pointedly looking at everything in the room beside her as you wait for her to talk. After she came back from delivering the list of jobs to Disciple and signing everyone one up with whoever is in charge of that area and getting schedules for everyone and then passing them out, the first thing that Rose did was wheel you back to your room.

Note to self: the wheelchair makes it very easy for someone to kidnap you. Try to heal up and get out of it as soon as possible, or else you are subject to going anywhere with whoever can be bothered to push you, and you will likely have little to no say in the matter.

But back to the subject at hand.

Rose is leaning against the door, her face expressionless as she waits for you to start talking. You want to pretend that you don't know what she wants but, unfortunately, you do. This is about your job.

Finally, you get tired of the stalemate, and you sigh, hanging your head. "I don't think that I can do anything useful." You admit, crossing your arms unhappily. "What job am I supposed to be doing, Rose? I'm not even allowed to stand on my own without everyone fretting over me like I'm a helpless child, and I never had any skills, even before I got banned from walking. I'm not good with my hands. I don't have any knowledge on medicine or war tactics. I'm not the leader type, and it seems like this little organization already has plenty of those, anyway. I can't cook or fight. Not like this. I'm fucking useless." You spit the word out with venom. "Maybe… maybe Karkat should have just left me in my room to bleed out."

There. You said it. Rose, for her part, looks shocked by what you said. You've felt this way for a while now, and even more so after Karkat snapped at you a few days ago. This is all your fault. Every bad thing that was happening to your family and your friends. If Karkat had run and left you to bleed out, everything would be so much simpler. The city wouldn't have gone up in flames. John and Jade wouldn't have had to leave their homes. Equius would still be alive. Karkat would have gotten that reward money. You never even told your parents that you loved them. Not once. As far as your concerned, you've only ever done more harm than good, and you deserved to have died back there.

You don't realize that you're crying until Rose hugs you. She seats herself on your lap, arms around your neck, hugging you tightly. You gratefully return the hug, burying your face in her shoulder to hide your little breakdown. You cry silently, barely even aware of the tears. "Dave, why didn't you tell me all of that before?" Rose sighs quietly, but she doesn't sound angry. "You can talk to me about anything, okay? Please don't make a habit out of holding all of that stuff in."

You manage a laugh, and nod ever so slightly. "Yeah, okay." You agree quietly. "It's all true, though. Don't try to tell me that it isn't."

Rose sighs, but you notice that she doesn't try to correct you. You aren't sure if that's good or bad. "Dave, no one can be useful all the time." She says finally. "I know that I would be useless in the middle of a fight, but do you think that that diminishes my value as a person?" You shake your head automatically. No, of course, it doesn't. You think the world of your sister. "Exactly." Rose smiles, clapping you on the shoulder. "So please stop thinking that just because you can't be helpful right now, you should be dead. You're injured, Dave, and you've been sheltered all of your life. I know that you're a good sword fighter. Once you've healed up to where Terezi gives you the okay to walk again, we can see about putting you in with the fighters. Maybe you can even instruct them while you're still in the wheelchair. I can certainly say that they could use all of the help that they can get. Their technique is terrible." She jokes.

That manages to get a real laugh from you, and you let go of Rose to wipe your tears away. "Okay." You sigh. "I'll… I'll figure out something that I can do to be helpful." You give Rose another, quick hug as a thank you, and she stands up, smiling warmly at you.

"There. That's the brother that I know and love." She teases affectionately, kissing your forehead. "I was worried that he wouldn't be making a return. Never change, Dave." You nod. Yeah. You think that you can do that. "Here, let's get you ready for bed, okay?"

The sweet moment that you just shared with you sister does not make the changing process any less awkward.

You're grateful when she finishes up, leaving you tucked in bed and in your pajamas. Well, what constitutes as your pajamas anyway. The ones at the castle were made out of silk and tailored to your exact measurements. The clothes that you're wearing now were given to you as a gift from Disciple, as Karkat was a little busy freaking out and you were a little busy being unconscious and bleeding to death to grab clothes while you still had the chance. The clothes that you're wearing now are too big for you, and not nearly as soft as what you're used to, but you're too tired to really complain.

Sollux always comes in late, so you don't bother staying up for him. Besides, you were told to get plenty of sleep by Terezi, and Rose, and Karkat, and John… basically everyone. Including Sollux. Yes. You are positive that he told you to get some sleep at some point during this change of scenery. So you don't think that he'll mind. He doesn't seem to care about most things, actually.

Satisfied, you roll onto your side, pleased to note that your scar is hurting less every day. But it's not the outside that you and everyone else is worried about. It's the internal veins and muscles that have everyone in a frenzy. Those need to heal, and you need to take it easy and let them. So you close your eyes, and a few minutes later, you're asleep.

Pounding on your door wakes you up. You shoot up in bed, only remembering to be in pain once your heart stops beating out of your chest. You hear Sollux fumbling in the for a match, and a few seconds later, the candles on his nightstand are being lit, filling the room with enough light to at least be able to see your own hand in front of your face.

Apparently, Karkat gets tired of waiting for one of you to open the door, because he flings it open not three seconds later. "Both of you, be on guard!" He growls. "Two people broke into the base not ten minutes ago, and I want you both ready if you happen across them. If they're here for Dave or one of our leaders, or just some fancy fucking paperwork that will help them wipe us out, they won't be leaving here alive. If anyone unfamiliar so much as _breathes_ in the direction of this room, I want to know."

"Woah, woah, hold on." Sollux scrambles to his feet, pulling out a pair of pants over his undergarments. "What are you saying? We're supposed to stay here?" He doesn't seem very pleased by the idea.

Karkat nods anyway. "Yes." He says. "I need you to keep an eye on Dave. I don't need him almost dying again, and until we know who broke in and why, everyone and everything worth taking is under lock and key. I'm leaving three guards outside of your door. If something happens, they'll let the two of you know immediately and then one of them will get a message to me. Leave this door locked, and don't answer it for anyone except me. Absolutely. No. One. Else. I don't care how much you think you can trust them."

The door slams behind him before either of you can protest. Sollux looks a little shocked, just staring blankly for a moment. He gets to his feet and walks over to the door, sighing a little as he locks it. He's frowning, probably thinking, so you don't interrupt him. You grab your wheeled chair, positioning it next to your bed so that you can get out and ready. You're still in your pajamas, but it will take to long to get dressed, so in case something happens where you need to be able to leave, you move to get out of bed, sliding into your chair. It's not that hard. You don't know why Rose insists that you let her help with everything when it's easier if you do it yourself. You're injured, not fragile, dammit.

After he's done with whatever he was thinking about, Sollux sighs and turns to you. He doesn't look very pleased, not that you blame him, but regardless, he pulls up a chair and sits down next to you. The silence between the two of you is awkward, but you can't put your finger on why. He doesn't seem to be mad at you or anything, but you can't help but feel like you're partly responsible for his less than happy mood.

You're looking at the ground, but after a moment, you sigh and lift your head to turn your gaze to him. "I'm sorry that you're stuck watching me." You apologize. And you really are sorry. You can't help but think about what you and Rose talked about earlier. You couldn't have really ruined your friend's lives, right? Not entirely, at least?

Sollux blinks as if caught off guard by the statement, but then he shakes his head. "No, Dave, don't blame yourself. It's not your fault that you got stabbed or that you're a prince and therefore have a higher chance than normal people to be kidnapped." He folds his arms behind his head, leaning back in his chair. It can't be a very comfortable position, but he doesn't seem to mind. "If anything, it's KK's fault for stabbing you and then expecting other people to look out for you while you're injured when you're his responsibility."

You open your mouth to argue with that statement, only to soon close it. Sollux laughs, and you turn a faint shade of pink with embarrassment. You cross your arms with a huff, looking away from him. "W-Well, I guess that you're right about that, but still." You sigh. "I get the feeling that you would rather be out there." You admit a little tensely.

"Not really." Sollux shrugs, propping one foot up on your bed to push himself back in the chair. "I mean, would it be more exciting than our combined lack of social skills being stuck in a single room together? Well, yeah. Definitely. But this is also easier than scouring the entire base for whoever doesn't belong when I don't even know half of the people actually working here. I got the easy job. Nothing to complain about there."

You press your lips into a thin line, but don't try to argue with him. You still don't think that Karkat should have saved your life, or at least, he shouldn't have brought you with him. You're sure that he has his reasons, but you don't know what they are. Your gaze flits over to Sollux. Wait. They seem like good friends. Maybe, if Karkat won't tell you his feelings, he's told Sollux. It's as good of an idea as any.

"Hey, Sollux?" You start a little hesitantly, and he looks over to you, signaling that you have his attention. "You and Karkat seem pretty close. Can you tell me- why did he save my life? Wouldn't it have been smarter to have just let me die?"

What you are not expecting as an answer is laughter. Sollux laughs out loud, having to lurch forward to keep his chair from falling backward and hitting the floor when his laughing unbalances him. "Dude, you are a fucking idiot." He snickers into his hand. "Can you really not see it? I don't even care, and it's clear as day to me." He laughs again.

You frown, and you're about to ask what's so funny, but before you can, a loud thump from outside your door gets your attention. You and Sollux freeze, listening to the sound of struggling, shouts, and running footsteps. He stands up, hands on the back of your chair, ready to push you forward as soon as he needs to.

"We got her!" One of the guards calls, followed by a muffled female voice that you can't understand.

Sollux tenses, and then, forgetting you entirely, flings open the door and darts out into the hallway. "Sollux!" You call after him, pushing yourself forward. "Wait, where are you going?" As it turns out, not far. A few doors down from your room, two guards are grappling with a girl that you assume is the intruder.

You don't recognize her, but that's probably because you can't see any of her features. Between the black outfits of the guards, and the impossible number of skirts that she's wearing, and the way that her hair is getting whipped into her face as she struggles, you can't make out anything about her.

Just outside of your bedroom door, Sollux is standing completely motionless, his eyes trained on the scuffle. The girl doesn't seem to know any fighting. She's just lashing out blindly and hoping to hit something, and it's working. One of the guards has impressive scratch marks down the side of his face, most likely from her nails. You make a mental note to stay far, far away from those.

You look up at Sollux, frowning. "Are you okay?" You ask. "You're just-" You choke on your words as you're yanked back by your shirt collar, a hand fisting in the coarse material to hold you still and the other holding a dagger to your neck.

The motion in the hallway ceases. The guards have the girl pinned to the ground, hands on her back to hold her there, and one blue eye peering at you through the spiraling curtains of hair. She looks just as worried as the guards, which confuses you until the blade digs further into your skin, drawing a thin line of blood, and you remember that other things require your attention.

"Let her go." The person - a man - says, growling the words out as he digs the blade in hard enough to make you hiss in pain. "Or else I'll be lodgin' this dagger in his neck."

The guards share a look, but before they can make a decision, footsteps sound from the corridor behind them. From around the corner in front of you, John and Karkat come running, two other guards with them.

Karkat's gaze narrows in on you in a nanosecond, and he growls, two sickles in his hands almost faster than you can track his movements. "Step back, and we might just throw you out instead of having you killed for breaking and entering." He threatens the man holding you, but you notice that he doesn't try getting any closer. The blood leaking down the swell of your throat must tell him to keep his distance.

But it seems that John doesn't have quite the reservation that Karkat does. You don't even bother trying to convince yourself that he does it out of the "love he's been denying for so long." Still, John takes a (very platonic) step forward, and with a warning growl, the man holding you tightens his hold on your shirt collar and pulls so hard that you choke. Your hands go up to grab his wrist, but despite the way you tug and struggle, he doesn't lessen his hold in the least. If anything, he just pulls on your shirt harder, and black spots flash across your vision. "Let him go." John tries quietly, and for what it's worth, the man's grip lessens just enough for you to breathe properly again. "We'll let your friend up, but Dave doesn't have anything to do with this."

You feel the man hesitate. "Did you say that his name is Davve?" He asks, his confusion clear. John doesn't get the chance to answer.

Seeing his opening, Sollux grabs the man by the back of his head, slamming his forehead forward into the back of your chair. He crumbles to the ground in pain, dagger clattering to the dirt next to him as he clutches at his forehead.

"Sollux!" Karkat snaps, and he looks angry, all though you can't imagine what he's upset about, seeing as how Sollux just saved your life.

"Sollux?" The girl on the ground struggles a new, and in the confusion and initial relief, she manages to wriggle out of the hold keeping her on the ground. She gets to her feet, her dress tearing as the guards immediately grab for her, but she ignores them. Her hair is brushed out of her face, and her eyes lock onto Sollux in a heartbeat. "Sollux!" She grins, running at him.

Looking up, Sollux stops from where he was busy grabbing your attacker's dagger. He straightens back up just in time to get out, "Feferi?" before the girl is crashing into him. They both hit the ground, but she doesn't seem to mind, laughing with relief as she quickly flips her hair out of her face to smile at him.

The girl - Feferi, you suppose - clings to Sollux tight. "I was so worried!" She bemoans. "When I got your letters, I-! Well, I came as soon as I could. I couldn't stand to know that you were in trouble and I couldn't be there to help you out!"

And then you all have to look on, bewildered, as Feferi cups Sollux's cheek tenderly and kisses him, hard. He stiffens for a moment, more out of surprise than anything, but then one of his hands goes up to cup the back of her head, and he's tugging Feferi closer, holding her small body close as he kisses her with a passion.

You're so shocked from what you're seeing that you don't even notice Karkat standing next to you until he moves to the side and kneels down next to the man who had a knife to your throat. "Eridan." He says quietly, and you forget to be surprised that they know each other. "Please tell me that you know what's happening here."

Eridan sits up, rubbing the bruise forming on his forehead with a suppressed wince. "No clue." He replies just as quietly, not tearing his eyes away from the happy couple to look at Karkat. "I just followwed Fef to keep her safe. But…" you hear him sigh, "maybe she didn't need my help after all..." 


	26. Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow, I'm gonna leave here.  
> I'm gonna let you go and walk away,  
> like every day I said I would.

Rather than go for the obvious and pull Feferi up by the back of her dress, Karkat gets his foot under Sollux and rolls him over onto his side before he can stop making out with Feferi long enough to say something. The two part at the change in position, but where as Sollux looks a little pissed, Feferi merely looks confused.

Too bad for Sollux, because Karkat is  _also_ pissed, and he is much better at it. "What the fuck is  _this_  supposed to be?" He gestures at Feferi, who still has her arms around Sollux. They've shifted positions, sitting up, but they haven't parted. Feferi has used the opportunity to get closer if anything, sticking herself in Sollux's lap, headless of the pounds of skirt between her and him. If she realizes how much trouble she and Sollux are both in, she doesn't show it, quiet and watching the two bicker with big eyes.

" _This_ ," Sollux starts, glaring a little at Karkat while he puts his arms around Feferi's waist protectively, "isn't something that I knew about, if that's what you're implying. And she is my girlfriend, who really shouldn't be here…" he sighs, and then smiles gently, cupping Feferi's cheek, "but I'm glad to see you, anyway."

They go in for another kiss, but Karkat pushes Sollux's face away, scowling at him. "I don't care how happy you are to see the replacement lover you've gotten. She can't be here. She broke in, and I think you're smart enough to imagine just how well that's going to go over with Disciple." He narrows his eyes, as if daring Sollux to argue with him on this.

Frowning, Feferi looks between the two of them. You don't know how she feels about being called "a replacement lover," but it seems like you're going to be finding out. She starts to say something, only for another voice to cut through the tense silence.

"What is going on here?" Disciple's voice demands immediate answers, sharp and clear as she turns the corner and glares at Feferi and Eridan in turn. Feferi averts her gaze, but Eridan just stares back with a little impatient huff of his own. You've never seen someone so uninterested with enemies literally surrounding him.

One guard straightens his posture, giving Disciple a salute. "These two broke in." He informs her, pointing to Feferi and Eridan. "Apparently, the girl was looking for that newcomer. Him." He indicates to Sollux. "I'm not really sure what the boy is doing here. He hasn't said anything beyond threats to decapitate the prince."

You stiffen as attention is drawn to you. Disciple notices the red, bleeding line on your neck, and her eyes narrow. Threats to royalty aren't usually treated carelessly. Eridan, for his part, looks kind of amazed. He's staring up at you, eyes big with awe, and it's making you incredibly uncomfortable. God, you're a fucking prince, not a deity, and you really want Eridan to stop looking at you as if you are.

Disciple is quiet, looking between you, Sollux, Eridan, and Feferi with a thoughtful expression. You notice that she completely ignores Karkat. You wonder what the two of them talked about, when and if Karkat found her. It couldn't have been a fun conversation, because you notice that Karkat isn't acknowledging her, either. He's still glaring at Sollux, his hands curled into fists at his sides as if he's struggling not to punch someone.

"Okay." She sighs finally, rubbing her temples wearily. "Set them up in the red hall. I want them rooming separately, and I want two guards at both of their doors. We're going to deal with these two in the morning, after I've talked to my council about it."

The guards present all nod, and a chorus of "yes, ma'am," rings throughout the hall. One of them grabs Feferi, pulling her off of Sollux, and both he and Eridan bristle.

"Don't touch her!" Eridan snaps, getting to his feet. His hands are immediately grabbed, pinned behind his back even as he struggles against the guard's hold. You notice that they're much gentler with Feferi, probably because she isn't trying to fight back. She isn't exactly  _happy_ about this, but she lets herself be led away with solemn resignation.

For his part, Sollux just gives a little wave of parting. Feferi manages a smile, which he returns almost hesitantly, and then she's around the corner and out of sight.

"And I want two guards outside of his door, too." Disciple points at Sollux, continuing before he can try cutting in. "I want him restricted to only the most basic access until I can trust him again. Tomorrow, we'll see about getting him a new roommate. Obviously, he can't be trusted alone with the prince, so I want the guards to check in on them hourly. Is that understood?"

Another round of nods and "yes ma'am"s. Karkat looks about ready to burst, he's so red and furious, but he doesn't acknowledge that Disciple spoke. "Let's get you back to bed." He tells you instead, grabbing the handles of your chair and turning you around laboriously. The chair is still a work in progress.

He gestures for Sollux to follow, pushing you into your room and stopping you by your bed. Despite your protests, Karkat helps you back into bed, anyway. It is both humiliating and kind of amazing to be held by someone half your weight and a head shorter than you, but Karkat makes it quick, and by the time you're safely tucked in, you're curious to find that you're red from more than just embarrassment. You wish that your feelings would stop being jumbled and confusing around Karkat. It's bad enough to feel so anxious around John. You have no idea what your sudden shift in emotions is even about.

"I'm going to be one of the guards watching your door." Karkat tells the two of you, hands on his hips as he looks over you both. Sollux has already gotten back into bed, and now he's staring at Karkat with an unreadable expression. "Dave, holler if you need something. And Sollux, try not to need something. We're not allowed to give you anything if you have basic access."

You raise an eyebrow. "Hold on, Karkat. I thought that you weren't allowed to do anything that involved fighting. Doesn't guard duty have fighting implied?" You ask.

As if he had just been waiting for you to ask, Karkat smirks, reaching into the sleeves of his cloak and pulling out a small, leather-bound book. There's no title on it or any distinguishable marks at all. "I'm not." He acknowledges. "But, you see, as long as you just pretend that you're where you belong, and have a royal friend who's sister can  _helpfully_ supply the guide and rule book to tell you  _exactly_ how you need to act and behave, you practically have the job."

This gets Sollux to crack a smile, and he shakes his head with a chuckle. "Damn. Really?" He gives Karkat an impressed look. "You don't even get paid for that though, do you? It's all of the work with no payback." He points out.

Karkat loses his smile, and his gaze hardens. "I don't need any payment." He says stiffly. "I'm doing this to keep Dave safe. Guard duty isn't anywhere close to my dream job, but Dave is…" His gaze slides over to you, and his face heats up. "Well, I- I owe him after what I did." He says, coughing awkwardly into his hand. "Anyway, I'm just gonna… get out there and get on duty. You two sleep." He doesn't look at you or Sollux, ducking out of the door quickly. You hear the click of a lock behind him, so you suppose that means the two of you are stuck.

You look to Sollux, frowning. "Any idea what that was about?" You ask, because you really are having trouble understanding the major fluxes in Karkat's behavior.

But Sollux just shakes his head, laughing. "You really are denser than a rock, your highness." He lays down and rolls over, asleep without ever answering your question, and leaving you more confused than ever. "You'll get it eventually, I'm sure."

Just what  _are_ you missing here?

* * *

You can't tell what time it is while you're underground like this, but your internal clock is telling you that something is way off with your sleep schedule. You shouldn't be up this early, and you shouldn't have gone to bed so late. Granted, you had little control over that, which is just further supporting the argument that you should be asleep. But Karkat doesn't seem to be accepting any arguments.

He looks absolutely exhausted, and you wonder if he really stayed up all night just to guard you. The only thing that keeps you from asking for more sleep is the sight of the bags under his eyes. They didn't used to be so… pronounced. So if Karkat can find the energy to keep going, then so can you.

But holy  _fuck_  is it difficult.

You're yawning, just barely managing to pay attention to the situation going on around you. You're in the conference room from before, sitting around that big, circular table again. Karkat and John are on either side of you, and everything else your brain just kind of filtered out as unimportant. You blink, trying to focus yourself. The room is mostly empty. The other people are Sollux, Disciple, the handful of guards from last night, and Eridan and Feferi. They're seated at the end of the table, and while they aren't tied up, you don't doubt that they were searched carefully for weapons before being allowed in here. You think that this is supposed to be a trial of some kind? Only the people that were there last night when Eridan and Feferi were apprehended are present now.

You've been gestured to a few times, used as evidence or as an example, but you haven't yet been asked to speak. To be fair, you haven't exactly tried, either. Your input isn't needed or wanted, and frankly, you would much rather be asleep. Maybe once everything is done here, someone will suggest you get some rest. Everyone seems pretty insistent on that, and for the first time, it doesn't seem like such a terrible idea.

"Dave." Disciple addresses you properly for the first time in this entire conversation, and you straighten up in your seat automatically. "What do you think?" You blink, quiet as you try to recall what she was just talking about, and Disciple sighs. "About the two who broke in?" She elaborates for you, and you see Karkat roll his eyes. "Do you think that we should punish them for their transgressions, or let them leave?"

So. She's asking you if you want the guy who almost slit your throat and the girl he was willing to do it for, to walk free, huh? You shrug. "I don't really care, in all honesty." You say. "Why not let them stay? Put them to work. They can make up for it with some hard labor. And who knows. They may have connections that could be helpful."

She seems surprised by your response, to the point that she can't think of anything to say, and Karkat ends up speaking instead. "Wow, Dave." He blinks, and then gives a little chuckle. "That was actually pretty smart of you. Good idea." He claps you on the shoulder, and you pretend that your face isn't overheating behind your shades.

"It's a very good idea." Disciple says, as if Karkat hadn't spoken at all. "Of course, it does come with some obvious risk, but…" she looks around the room, frowning in thought, "I don't think that it's too risky. Does anyone have any other ideas or protests?"

Hesitantly, Eridan raises his hand. He is smoothly ignored.

"Very well." Disciple stands up, folding her hands in front of her. "I want them limited to basic access only, the same as Sollux. Let everyone know. I want at least one person to know where they are at all times. If it takes me any longer than five minutes to find them at any given time, someone is being demoted. Keep a close eye on them. All three of them. You two," she points to two guards, who immediately salute her, "provide them with a meal, and then get them started right away on cleaning duty. That should be humbling."

You can see that Eridan is close to arguing and fighting against the guards, he's so pissed. Feferi looks a little calmer than him, but rather than being angry, she's worried. You would be worried too if you were locked in an underground base. Maybe your smart idea wasn't so smart after all.

John stands up as the two are being led out, putting his hands in your handles to start pushing you back to your room. "Wait." You say, and he stops, sharing a confused shrug with Karkat. "Let's go get breakfast."

Although he probably thinks you're crazy, John complies with your suggestion, and a few minutes later, you're being wheeled into the dining hall with Karkat and Sollux right behind you.

It's rather early in the morning, so not very many other people are in here. Just a few other early risers, and the cook. You know that Jade is up already to be shown around the kitchen and taught the ins-and-outs by the head cook. Disciple had John's initiation pushed back a day so that he could be there for the hearing, and so that both he and Jade could be given more one-on-one attention for their first day.

The dining area is really just a large room with tall walls, and a floor that's been smoothed out and laid with bricks so that dirt doesn't get into all of the food. It's crammed with tables and chairs, just enough space between each table to squeeze through. It comes as no surprise to note that the dining hall is one of your least favorite rooms. It's practically impossible for you to navigate by yourself, and it isn't much easier when you're being pushed.

Regardless, John sucks it up and pushes you forward until you reach Eridan and Feferi's table. They're in the far back of the room, shoved into the left corner almost as an afterthought. The two guards supervising them as they eat arch an eyebrow as your little group approaches, and Karkat sighs.

"I'll keep an eye on them." He says. "You two go wait out in the hall to escort them to cleaning duty when we're done here." The two guards share a look, and then shrug. Apparently, it isn't worth it to them to argue with Karkat on this, because they both salute him and then leave the table, walking out of the room. Karkat snorts, rolling his eyes. "Fucking oafs." He murmurs when they're out of hearing range.

He doesn't get to insult them any further because then Feferi is hugging him. She's wearing the dress from last night still, some horrendous shade of pink with so many ruffles and folds and fabrics and designs that you lose her body in the absurdity of it. Feferi squeezes Karkat so hard that he looks just about ready to pop. "Karkat, thank you!" She moves back, kissing him on the cheek in thank you, and then turns and hugs Sollux somehow even tighter. His face seriously starts going purple after a minute. "I was so worried that I came all this way for nothing, and that I wouldn't be able to see Sollux again!"

After a second, she lets him go, and Sollux struggles to breathe for a moment. Feferi doesn't seem to notice his little dilemma, and she leans in to kiss him. It's not as heated as it was yesterday. To you, they're just pressing their lips together, and Sollux soon relaxes into the motions of it all, just enjoying being near her.

Eridan doesn't seem nearly as happy as Feferi is. He turns to Karkat, his face set in a scowl, and his eyes very purposefully looking anywhere except at Sollux and Feferi. "Wwhat're you doing here, Kar?" He asks. "Wwon't your leader get mad at you for going against her orders?" He questions.

Scowling, Karkat rolls his eyes dismissively. "As if I care." He says bitterly. "She can shove all of that anger up her ass. I don't need her approval to talk to someone." He crosses his arms, muttering things under his breath that you can't follow. What few words you do make out are usually swears, so you figure that it's best to just leave him to it.

You push yourself forward just to be a little closer to Eridan, and stick your hand out to shake his. "Hello." You greet pleasantly. "I don't think that we've met properly yet. My name is Dave S-" You don't get to finish introducing yourself.

"I knoww." Eridan blurts out. He cringes as if he regrets just shouting out, but he doesn't stop talking. "Your highness, or, um, I mean- my prince, I am Eridan Ampora, son of Cronus Ampora, and a duke of Derse, and I wwant to apologize sincerely for wwhat I did last night. Had I knowwn that it wwas you I wwas attacking, I wwouldn't havve laid a finger on you." The speech is surprising enough, but you honestly don't know what to do when Eridan slides out of his seat, kneels on the floor, and bows before you. "Please," he says, keeping his head down and his eyes on the floor, "forgivve me, my great prince. I meant no offense to you or the throwwn."

You can't do more than stare. Your dad has received this sort of treatment before, sure, but no one has ever gotten on their hands and knees and begged for your forgiveness. It is incredibly uncomfortable, and you turn red with embarrassment when you realize that the room is dead silent and everyone is staring at you. You take a shaky breath. "Get up." You say through clenched teeth, wanting to remain diplomatic. "I'm not angry, and you're not getting any punishment for last night, so please stop bowing to me and get back in your seat." You just about hiss at him.

Somehow, Eridan and Feferi both have skulls as thick as boulders, because he doesn't notice the venom in your words. He just gets back in his seat, muttering little thank yous and apologies until you again have to tell him to stop. After that, Eridan finally settles down, and his lips seal shut. You've always had servants and loyal subjects, but the way Eridan is looking at you is nothing short of worshipful. It's… eerie. This is beyond what you typically get from suck ups who want your money or influence. It's almost as if he… genuinely looks up to you and admires you. You. Dave Strider, the ex-prince who can't do anything useful and who ruined the lives of his friends. You aren't even going to try understanding where Eridan is coming from with this.

"So." John coughs awkwardly, turning to Karkat, who seems to have calmed down now. "Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm getting the subtle vibe that you have met Feferi and Eridan before, right, Karkat?" He asks.

Karkat shrugs, seemingly not at all concerned with the fact that he knows the people who broke in last night, one of whom would have killed you if John hadn't used your name. Which reminds you… "Yeah, we've met before." Karkat remarks, stopping your trail of thought. "It was just once, though. I want to say… about a year ago? Last winter season, when I was out shopping in the market place and there were nobles everywhere. It wasn't exactly my most shining moment, but-" he coughs, embarrassed, and you wonder just what happened between him and those two that's so bad, "but I guess that I did something right if they're my friends now."

"Wwait, I nevver said that-" Eridan starts to protest, only for Feferi to cut him off by elbowing him hard in the side. She shoots him a glare that Eridan returns, rubbing his side with an irritated look.

Feferi rolls her eyes, brushing her hair out of her face before turning to Karkat. "What Eridan means is that, yes, of course, we're your friends, Karkat. And we're very glad that you're here, right, Eridan?" She gives him a meaningful look, and he sighs but mutters something that sounds almost like confirmation. Still, it must be good enough for Feferi, because she doesn't press for anything more.

"Uh huh…" John raises an eyebrow. He seems pretty skeptical about this whole thing, which you can't really blame him for. "Wait, what are you two doing here, anyway?" He asks suddenly. "I don't remember Disciple asking that, but I can't say that I'm surprised. She's been slipping recently. But I'd be more than happy to ask her to keep questioning you if you don't feel like talking to us."

There's an underlying threat in his words that's impossible to miss. Eridan and Feferi share a look, and then she sighs, turning back to John. "Well, to be completely honest…" She glances at Sollux, and he presses his lips into a thin line, but doesn't say anything, "Sollux told me where this place was." She admits, wringing her hair in her hands with nervousness. "He wrote in a letter to me that he was going to be joining a rebellion, and I couldn't just let him do it alone! What if he went and got himself killed? He gave a vague description of where this base was, but it wasn't that hard to find. I just followed some people leaving town and coming in this direction. Your entrances aren't very well-guarded, by the way. The stairs in particular from the horse stables were really easy to get by. And as for what  _Eridan_ is doing here…" She huffs, giving him a glare.

" _I'm_  here because Fef needs someone to keep an eye on her." Eridan says proudly. "I only came because I kneww that she couldn't make the trip all by herself- oww!" He jumps in pain, reaching under the table to rub his ankle, where you assume Feferi kicked him. Despite the atmosphere of the room, you manage a little smile at the smug look on her face as she sticks her tongue out at Eridan.

"He was  _supposed_ to stay behind to cover for me with my mother." Feferi huffs with frustration. "I can handle myself! I got here mostly on my own, anyway. He didn't even reveal that he was following me until I was practically here!" She protests.

"Not true!" Standing up, Eridan sends his chair skidding back with how fast he moves, glaring down at Feferi. "I wwas there from the beginnin'! Did you knoww that you neglected to bring any money wwith you wwhen you left? You wwouldn't havve gotten a room at that inn if I hadn't paid for you ahead of time. And wwe started officially travvelin' together just the next day! Just admit that you're glad I wwas there to keep you company and, more importantly, keep you safe and outta trouble!" He jabs a finger at Feferi accusingly, and she bristles, going red with embarrassment.

Before she can start arguing with Eridan further though, Sollux chooses that moment to cut in. "Feferi isn't stupid." He shoots back at Eridan, standing up to meet his glare head on with one of his own. "And she could have and would have figured out something to do if you weren't there to baby her like she's a helpless toddler."

What Eridan was doing before must have been showing some serious restraint for Feferi, because he does not have that problem with Sollux. "You shut your fuckin' mouth." He seethes, and Sollux doesn't get the chance to reply because Eridan continues. "I don't knoww wwho you are, or howw peasant scum got invvolvved wwith my Fef, but I'm not about to sit back and havve a dandy old fuckin' time wwhen she's ruinin' herself by being associated wwith you!" He throws a punch then, catching Sollux so hard in the jaw that he stumbles back and has to crouch down to keep from landing flat on his ass.

He growls, rubbing his jaw tenderly and wincing a little. Nothing is bleeding, but you can see that it's going to leave a good-sized bruise. Eridan has a better punch than you originally gave him credit for. Getting to his feet, Sollux doesn't hesitate to return the punch. Eridan ducks it, stepping back, and Sollux shoves him so hard that he slams into the wall. You hear him gasp in pain, and Sollux goes in for another punch-

"Stop!" Feferi shoots to her feet, stepping between Sollux and Eridan. She just barely manages to move her head at the last second to avoid being punched, but she doesn't back down. She glares at both of them, and Sollux can't meet her gaze, while Eridan at least looks a little guilty. "You're both important to be, okay? I don't want you hurting each other or anyone else. Please?"

Giving a sigh in sync, Eridan and Sollux make eye-contact for a split second before they both scowl and have to look away. "Wwhatevver." Eridan says, at the same time that Sollux growls out, "Fine." You can tell that there's no way either of them are going to give up on this fighting thing so easily, but that seems to have settled the matter for now and, satisfied, Feferi carefully sits back down, eyeing them as if they're going to start fighting all over again.

Rubbing his jaw, Sollux takes a seat on Feferi's left while Eridan sits back at her right. They're both silent, apparently content to sulk as they turn to face away from each other. Jesus, this better not become a permanent rivalry type thing. You really don't think that anyone has the patience for that anymore.

"Okay then." Karkat says dryly. You don't think that the fight even managed to catch his attention, let alone actually get him to actually care about the squabbling of the two boys. "Well, that answers the why and the how of what the fuck you two are doing here. We know the what and the how and the where… But one thing that I don't understand is… Eridan." The nobleman looks up at the sound of his name. "You had Dave by the throat. But you let him go when John said his name. How did you know that Dave was the prince?" He asks curiously. Everyone turns to look at Eridan (well, except for Sollux) with confusion and interest in their eyes. You're a little curious about that, too. You didn't think that your dad told anyone about you being his son. Sure, the little noble boy named Dave who wandered the castle was well-known, but no one had ever asked if you were the prince before.

"Well…" Feferi hesitates, glancing at Eridan. He meets her gaze, and then gives a little nod. She doesn't seem entirely convinced with his answer, but she turns back to you all anyway. "To be honest, we didn't. Not entirely, anyway. Sollux talked about Dave being the prince in one of his letters-" Karkat shoots him a glare that makes Sollux recoil, but doesn't interrupt, "-but we both had suspicions before that. I think that what got me started on this was when I was very young, and my mom was telling me about betrothal plans that would give me the best future. She mentioned the prince of Derse, and then quickly turned bitter. She said that as nice as it would have been, that arrangement had failed. I thought that it was weird, and I guess that's why I remembered it for so long. My mom doesn't usually let anything upset her. And later, I found a list of names for people I could possibly marry in the future. The name "Dave" was scratched out almost angrily. I connected the dots." She finishes with a shrug.

"Seriously?" Karkat blinks. "That flimsy collection of bullshit is how you pieced together that the prince was named Dave. Literally,  _anyone_ could be named Dave!" He throws his hands up with exasperation, and you can tell that he's painfully close to just walking right out of this room, he's so fed up with you all.

Crossing her arms, Feferi huffs, visibly embarrassed. "That's not the whole story, alright? I did my research! Dave is a name that is common in royal families, but tell me this; have any of you ever met a  _common_ person named Dave? Have you even heard of one?"

John opens his mouth to say something, but then frowns, thinking, and closes it again. You can see Karkat likewise thinking hard, racking his brain for a face to go with the name. You find this whole thing kind of interesting. You thought that your dad just named you Dave because he was uninspired, but it's cool to know that your name is rooted in history. You wonder what it means - where it came from. It would be cool to know.

"No. I haven't." Karkat admits finally, and John nods in agreement. "But so what? Your thought-process is still scarily bad. Do you have any idea how many leaps of logic would have to be made to get the idea that Dave is the name of the prince?"

Feferi shrugs, smiling sweetly. "Maybe. But I was right, wasn't I?"

Karkat starts to argue with her, but then he stops, the words stuck in his throat. "You know what?" He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Whatever. I'm not going to argue with you on this one. Great detective work, Ms-" He stops abruptly, and blinks hard, like he just realized something huge. "Peixes." He says after a moment. "Your last name is Peixes, isn't it?" He asks.

Frowning, Feferi hesitantly nods. "Well, yes, but what does that-"

"I have to go." Karkat cuts her off, holding one hand up to signal her to be quiet. "Dave, you're coming with me." You don't get a say in the matter, apparently. He grabs the handles on your chair, pulling you back and away from them. "You can all… stay here and socialize if you want." He waves dismissively at Sollux and John, turning you around and pushing you towards the exit.

"Karkat, what are you doing?" You ask, quiet so that they can't overhear. There had better be a fucking amazing reason for this. You don't like being yanked around without say in the matter. Terezi would have your head for it, but you're tempted to skip this "rest period" entirely and just get up and start walking again. Fuck pain. You don't enjoy being ignored like this. "I actually wanted to stay back there and talk to them."

You don't get an answer immediately. Karkat ignores you, pushing open the doors to the dining area angrily. The two guards that he dismissed earlier are leaning against the nearby wall and chatting, and Karkat leaves you for a moment to stomp over to them. "What the fuck are you two doing?" He snaps, and they immediately straighten up, looking directly ahead of them as he yells. "This isn't the time for a gab session! I'm leaving, and I want you two stuck to your charges like glue! Get in there!"

They hurry to comply, pulling open the doors and ducking into the dining area. Not a moment later, John shoves his way by them, hurrying after Karkat as he immediately goes back to pushing you down the hall.

"Hey, wait! Karkat, c'mon-" John grabs him by the shoulder, and Karkat stops walking, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. "What the hell was that all about? Things were going great, so why did you- you left kind of in a hurry. Is something wrong?"

There's a pause, and Karkat hesitates, looking around and quickly checking around corners before he turns to fix John with a glare. "Yes, something is wrong." He hisses out, keeping his voice down. ""Peixes" is the last name of the Condesce, AKA, my boss, and the woman set on having you killed. It's her real name, I mean. No one in their right mind would name their child "the Condesce."

"So, what are you saying?" You ask, frowning. "That Feferi, the sweetest girl in the world, is related to a monster bent on world-domination?" The idea is ludicrous. It would take a lot for you to believe that Feferi had a bad bone in her body.

"I can't prove it for certain just yet." Karkat admits after a moment. "To be fair, Peixes could be a common name. But… I always thought that she looked familiar, and now I know why. She's ridiculously similar to the Condesce. Even down to bone structure…" He sighs. "I haven't seen my boss in three years, and I don't think that I'm going to be getting a good look soon and live to tell about it, so for now…" He chews on his bottom lip, and groans. "Okay, so maybe I overreacted, but she could easily be a spy, Dave. And I promised to protect you. For now, I'm just going to keep an eye on her. And you aren't allowed to be alone with her or Eridan."

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms with a huff. "You don't get to tell me who I can and can't hang out with, Karkat." You reply bitterly. Not that you were too eager to be alone with them to begin with, but you're getting seriously sick of people trying to run your life and make your decisions for you.

John puts a hand on your shoulder, giving Karkat a hesitant smile. "I'm with Dave on this one." He says. "I don't think it will be a problem anyway since one of us is always with him, but he's an adult, Karkat. He can make his own choices."

You smile a little, reaching a hand up to fold it over John's, giving an affectionate squeeze. John squeezes back, beaming, and you hear Karkat scoff. "Fine." He just about hisses out, stepping away from you. "Hang out with whoever you want, Dave. It isn't my fault if you're lack of judgment gets you killed. You've already made friends with an assassin. I can tell that your choices of friends are fucking  _phenomenal_."

With that, he storms off, leaving you and John alone in the hallway. You're surprised for a moment. For the first time in a long time, you're alone with John.

You're alone.

With John.

Your face heats up at the thought, and you swallow thickly. You've been putting this off for far too long.

Unaware of your thought process, John sighs, upset, and runs a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry that Karkat left, Dave." He says. "I probably shouldn't have spoken up and upset him. He has a point, though. You really shouldn't be hanging out with them if there's a chance that they could get you killed. I've had enough of you dying on me for one lifetime, thanks." He laughs a little.

In truth, you hadn't heard a single word that he said. You were too busy thinking about what you need to say to him. "John." You twist in your chair to look at him, ignoring the flash of dull pain in your side, your expression so serious that his smile immediately falls. "Push me to my room. I need to tell you something in private."

John looks confused and a little worried, but he complies. "Y-Yeah, sure…" He mutters, and he starts pushing you. You relax a little bit. Being tensed up and nervous just won't do for this. You need to be calm and in control and most importantly, you need to be ready for rejection.

When you arrive at your room, John takes a seat on your bed, angling you to be in front of him so that you're facing each other. "So." He clears his throat. "Is something wrong, Dave? You're not usually like this."

You think back to a poem that Rose liked when you were younger.  _'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate...'_ But, no, that's no good… If you're going to recite a poem for John, you could at least write it yourself instead of stealing from… okay, so, admittedly, you didn't pay a lot of attention when your parents taught you about famous poets. You really only remember that one line, and that's only because Rose was obsessed with that sonnet for a month. You actually hate it. And you think that John would appreciate if you tried harder.

There are other ways to confess your feelings for someone. Why write down fancy words and rhymes and overly-complex run-on sentences when you can just tell him? Yeah. That will be much easier. Definitely…

"Um, Karkat-" You start, only to choke back the rest of what you were about to say. Fuck. Why did you say  _Karkat's_ name? That would have gone horribly. Most people don't appreciate being called by someone else's name when they're being confessed to. John raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue, and you shake your head. "Never mind." Okay. Second shot at this. You should get it right this time.

This is it. The moment of truth. "I…" Your words die in your throat, and you can't seem to look away from him. What if this ruins your friendship with him? What if he hates you? Or what if he tells Jade? God, it would break her heart. You don't want her to know about all of these feelings you've worked so hard to ignore. But you can't bare to ignore this - not anymore. You're tired of ignoring it. You hate looking at John and having to remind yourself not to get too excited. He needs to know. You need closure, in the form of a huge, helping dose of embarrassment and humiliation.

But instead of saying something, what you end up doing is putting a hand on John's knee, leaning in, and pressing your lips to his.

It takes a moment for him to respond.

His hands come up, and John puts them on your chest, pushing you away hard. Your chair moves back, and you put your hands on the wheels to stop yourself. Your face is probably as red as your eyes, and John is flushed too, but not for the same reason that you are.

You see his hands curl into fists, and John takes a deep breath, forcibly uncurling them and trying to calm down. His eyes are closed, and you wait. You wait for the harsh words that you know you deserve.

"You know…" John says finally, licking his lips and keeping his eyes closed. You assume that it's so he doesn't have to look at you. "It's sick enough to feel like that for another guy, Dave, but that's… that's not why I'm upset." His voice is quiet, like he's perfectly calm. You swallow hard. "Just how long were you going to drag Jade alone?" John opens his eyes then, and looking at you must trigger something, because his eyes are suddenly ablaze with fury. "Dave, do you have any  _fucking_ idea how sick this is? I always thought that you were a good guy. You were my best friend, and I thought that I knew you. But suddenly you're a prince? You have people trying to kill you? I thought that you were in love with Jade, but you're just toying with her. What gives you the right to do something like that? What did she ever do to you?" You try to interrupt - tell John that you never meant any harm, you were just tired of pretending you didn't love him - but he holds a hand up, silencing you before you can get a word in. He stands up, closing the distance between the two of you with two steps. You've always been taller than John, but now, he towers over you, his glare alone making you shrink down and feel tiny on the microscopic level. "Dave. I don't want to fucking talk to you again." He tells you with startling calmness. "Not until you tell Jade what you did and apologize. And if she can forgive you- then maybe I'll figure out how to do the same."

You wince as your bedroom door slams behind him, a sinking feeling in your chest. Yeah. You probably should have seen this coming, in all honesty. And you know that you really should talk to Jade about it too, but for now… you can't really bring yourself to care. Your emotional quota for the day has been filled. You sigh, climbing into bed and trying to relax. Not that relaxing is very easy. Mostly, you just stare at the ceiling, thinking long and hard about what you just did. Do you regret it? No. John deserved to know, and so does Jade. And you will tell her, just… just not right now. Or anytime soon. Strangely enough, you do feel a little better now. You know that that conversation had to happen, and you feel better because of it. Maybe now, you can work on moving on. It's not the end of the world for you if one stupid crush isn't returned. You never expected John to love you back, so you aren't surprised. You're just… disappointed.


	27. Act 2 Intermission 2: Time's Up Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Into the river below.  
> I'm running from the inferno.  
> They'll think I'm insane,  
> but you'll all know my name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, I'm a day late with the intermission. Sorry, guys.

Rose thinks that she's so smart.

You know better. She gets her intelligence from the same place that you do. Her arrogance is your twin, and there are more similarities between the two of you than you are comfortable with admitting. But there's one very important difference between the two of you.

You slip around the corner, your eyes darting frantically to scan your surroundings. You're not supposed to be out of your room after lights out. If anyone catches you, there will be serious consequences. The threat of repercussions makes you careful, but doesn't dissuade you. You've come too far to stop now. You've lost too much.

The difference between you and Rose is that she is content. She is happy with her single orb - with her limited sight. You, however, thirst for more. You've always known that there is more out there to understand, if only you could find it. And now you finally have.

Yes, Rose thinks that she's clever, but she's not. You understand how she can predict enemy motions and battle strategies so accurately. You know where she keeps that orb of hers, and you're so anxious to get your hands on it that your palms are sweating. Your own orb is at your waist, tied in a little sack and attached to your pants.

You take a left, pause to listen, a right, pause, straight ahead, left, left, straight… This base is a maze, but you've run the path over and over in your mind so often that it's memorized. You can close your eyes and see it engraved in the backs of your eyelids. You're obsessed, and you have been for years, but you don't care. It's yours. You're finally getting it. You deserve it, and you know you do, you just have to get to it.

You hold your breath as you push open the door to the conference room. It's empty, like you knew it would be. Weak candlelight on the tables is all that helps you to see. Clutched in your sweaty palm is a key, plucked from Rose's sleeping form. She sleeps like the dead - she didn't even feel you cutting the key off from where it was hanging around her neck.

You scan the room, quickly locating what you're looking for and hurrying over to it. A small, wooden box. Easily overlooked by someone who didn't know what they were looking for. It's tucked away in the back of the room resting on a box shelf. Next to the thick, impressive books and more eye-catching treasures, the box looks like nothing.

You know better. You  _always_ know better.

 _"Uh, Vriska?_  Your name is said almost as a sigh, sadness and faint disappointment laced through the syllables. You clench your jaw with impatience. Right. Of course  _he_ would make an appearance.

"You're not real." You whisper, squeezing your eyes shut. You don't need to hear the goody-two-shoes bullshit today. You don't need him here to tell you exactly how you've fucked up when you are already well aware. "I'm busy. Go away."

You feel him move closer - feel the temperature of the air drop until you're shivering. You must be imagining that, too.  _"Vriska, you... don't need to do this."_  He tells you.  _"Isn't what you have enough, uh, already?"_

Yeah, you  _really_ can't do this today. "No, it's not!" You snap, hissing the words out to keep quiet as you open your eyes and whirl to face him. "You know that it's not, but you still insist on this stupid fucking back and forth every time I make an "unlawful" choice! I  _know_ that what I'm doing is wrong. I  _know_ , alright? But have you ever stopped lecturing me long enough to fucking consider that maybe I just  _don't care_?" You can tell by the look on his face that he's shocked. Frankly, you don't care about that, either.

He presses his lips into a thin line, looking up at you with these big eyes that twist your heart. Oh, why can't he be real? Maybe he would be, if it wasn't for you. If only you had tried harder to get him out of there before you.  _"Vriska, please don't."_ He tries once more.  _"You have no idea what will, uh, happen if you try to combine those."_

You huff out a laugh, taking the box into your hands and unlocking it with Rose's key. "Can't be any worse than what will happen if I don't." You reply.

 _"Vriska, please."_  He tries to grab your arm, and you shudder as his hand just passes right through your skin without making contact with you. You feel chilled to the literal bone, your arm going numb where he touched.

" _Tavros_." You hiss, glaring viciously at him as you try to rub warmth back into your arm. "Just.  _Leave_. Don't come back. You're- you're supposed to be  _dead_ , and I would really, really,  _really_ appreciate it if you could stay that way." It's hard to say, but it's the truth, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you can move on.

It's even harder to accept the look on his face, like he just died all over again. He looks at his body, frowning, as if he couldn't tell before that he wasn't real.  _"Right."_  He says quietly.  _"I… almost forgot. My legs aren't, uh, supposed to be working… are they?"_

You shake your head. "No." You tell him quietly, swallowing the lump in your throat. If you just ignore the feelings, then they have to go away eventually, right? "They never have. I'm so sorry, Tavros."

He manages a small smile, and this time, puts his hand just close enough to your arm that it almost looks like he's touching you.  _"It's okay."_  He whispers. The chill of his body seeps into your skin, but this time, it's almost comforting.  _"It's not, uh, your fault. And… be careful, Vriska."_

You blink, and when your eyes open, Tavros is gone. The cold lingers in the air, and it burns your lungs every time you breathe it in. You don't know how you feel. Regretful? Relieved? It doesn't matter. He's dead, regardless of your thoughts on it. Feeling bad about it isn't going to make him come back, so you shrug off the guilt like you always do and turn your attention back to the box.

The lid makes a loud, creaking sound when you open it, especially noticeable in the stillness of the empty room. You wait for a moment, breath held with anticipation, but when you don't hear any footsteps after a minute, you continue.

Rose's orb is set carefully on a small stand, velvet cushioning lining the inside of the box. With a tender hand, you lift the orb from the stand, holding it against your chest as your other hand works to open the pouch around your waist holding your own orb. You pull it out, and both orbs begin to dimly glow. They pulse in your hands, thrumming with unnatural energy. Your breath catches with anticipation, and you watch, mesmerized, as the glowing gradually gets more and more intense and the pulsing gets faster and faster the closer you bring the orbs together. You have to squint against the light as you bring them so close that they're separated by only inches.

You were expecting them to repel each other, but you're surprised at the effort it takes to keep them from colliding right then and there. You force them apart for as long as you can stand it, your eyes forced to close as the light gets so intense that it singes your skin. There's a moment's pause, and then all of the power built up rushes out towards you, and it's too hot and too powerful. You let go of the orbs and bring your hands up to protect your face. Your entire left arm is numb, and your eyes won't listen to your commands to open. The sinking feeling in your stomach tells you that something is horribly, horribly wrong, just in time for your nerves to come back online and send you to your knees in agony.

Your name is Vriska Serket, and the scream of pain that you let out is nothing short of horrific.


	28. If You Don't Swim, You'll Drown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simmer down, simmer down.  
> They say we're too young now to amount to anything else.  
> But look around.  
> We worked too damn hard for this just to give it up now.

The explosion rocks the earth around you.

You bolt up in bed at the sound of it, your heart pounding and your body on edge. Little bits of dirt rain from the ceiling as the area around you shakes. You hold your breath for a moment, fearing a cave in, but after a moment, the base settles and quiets down as if nothing happened at all.

You're going to get out of bed, but before you can do more than bring your wheelchair close, your door is already being slammed open. You're not surprised to see Karkat there. He looks kind of cute, with his hair even more tousled than usual from just waking up, and his pajamas rumpled. But you don't get a lot of time to laminate on how cute Karkat is, because it seems like there was a crisis while you were sleeping.

"We're going to investigate the explosion." Karkat says in a hurry, walking over to you and lifting you up into his arms. You're set in your chair and pushed forward, out of the door and down the hall. Sollux isn't in your room, which is fine. He told you before you fell asleep that he was going to try spending the night with Feferi, and if his absence is any indication, he managed to talk his way past the guards. Or got caught and stuck somewhere else. "It sounded from the direction of the main room. If it was anything life-threatening, I'm bringing you back to your room, okay?"

You roll your eyes, but nod anyway, because you know that there's no way to change his mind. You should just consider yourself lucky that Karkat's bringing you at all to begin with, because you were thoroughly expecting to be left behind, either on purpose or because Karkat forgot you.

"So…" He slows his walking suddenly, waiting for a group of guards to rush by before he continues. "I… know that this isn't the best time to ask about it, but I don't know if I'll get you alone any time soon. John is my roommate and he came back to the room tonight really upset. He wouldn't say a word to me. And, well, you're his best friend, so before we meet up with him and the others, I was hoping that you could tell me what happened."

You really don't want to talk about this. You expected John to be more… disappointed than actually angry, and it's making you uncomfortable. God, he's not even going to look at you, is he? At least it doesn't seem like he's going to tell Jade. You're going to have to do that, and you know that she deserves an honest explanation, but you still want to put it off as long as possible. You're not looking forward to losing two friends. Losing John is hard enough. You're willing to bet that your eyes are still a little bit red and puffy from crying earlier. You hate crying. It makes you feel so… powerless. But that's what you are right now, isn't it? You went from being next in line to run a country to nothing in less than 24 hours. This isn't anything new.

"Um…" You look away, biting your lip gently. You're going to end up tearing right through the skin at this point. "It… it might be because I kissed him." There's no point in hiding the truth from Karkat. You trust him, and he already knows how you feel about John. You really should have done a better job at covering your feelings if it was that obvious for him.

For a second, Karkat stops dead in his tracks. He seems completely frozen, not pushing you, not blinking, and you look up at him, concerned. You're about to ask if he's okay, but just as quickly, Karkat snaps out of it, and his steps continue as if he hadn't missed a beat. "Well, it's good that you finally told him." He says a little stiffly. "I'm guessing that it didn't go well, based on his mood. I'm sorry." He doesn't sound very sorry, but you don't press the topic.

You sigh, slumping in your chair. "It's fine." You murmured. "To be honest, I… wasn't really expecting anything else. I was hoping for some kind of awkward, mutual understanding, but I guess that the end of my longest friendship is okay, too."

Karkat scoffs, swatting you on the back of the head. "You didn't ruin your friendship." He sighs. "John will forgive you. He's not the type to be angry forever. Just give him some time to cool off." He suggests.

"I don't think that's going to be enough." You bemoan, and you can't keep the hopelessness out of your voice. "He said that he wouldn't forgive me until I told Jade the truth. But I don't know if I can. John already hates me- I don't know if I could handle Jade feeling the same way." You tell him. "They've both been with me through so much. I don't know what I would do without them, you know?"

There's a little pause, and then Karkat sighs. "Yeah." He says quietly. "I think that I know exactly what you mean." You don't ask what he's implying. Karkat hurries his steps, and the two of you make the rest of the short trip in silence. You don't mind, because the area around where the explosion struck is filled with noise and chatter.

You can't see what's going on from your current position, craning your neck towards the center of the noise to see what's going on. You don't think that Karkat is having much luck either, considering that he keeps cursing and banging your chair into people accidentally as he tries to cut through the crowd. It looks like the conference room was blown wide open. The little door that goes into it is gone, and in its place is a gaping hole. Inside, the chairs and the round table lie in shattered pieces of wood on the dirt floor, smoldering with barely-suppressed flames as people try to stamp the heat out.

"Guys!" Terezi grabs Karkat by the shoulder, turning him around a little to face her. She has to shout to be heard over the chatter. "It's Vriska! Follow me!" She turns and starts leading you away from the center of it all, towards a door leading off the side of the hallway.

You and Karkat share a look, and he shrugs, heading after her. You rub your stomach absentmindedly as he pushes you. You wonder if Terezi will let you start walking soon. It's her call, after all, but really, you think that you're good enough to walk. It doesn't hurt so much anymore. Mostly, it's just this dull, throbbing pain in the back of your mind. You don't even notice it unless you're focused on it. But she's almost as stubborn as John. With your luck, she'll make you wait even longer if you ask. Oh, the burdens one must carry when their friends actually care about them. It's a trial, alright.

Terezi leads you both around a few turns and down short hallways until she stops outside of a door. This isn't one of the bedroom wings, you know that much. You don't think that you've been here before at all, actually. "This is the infirmary." She says in a quiet voice, pushing open the door and leading you and Karkat in.

This place is a little bit more… clean than the rest of the base. Like the bathroom, it has a little basin with a drain at the bottom, a small aqueduct letting out above it to provide fresh, running water. There are a few cots lining the walls, each made up with white sheets and a single pillow. There are rows and rows and rows of shelves lining the walls, holding bandages and scalpels and jars stuffed full of herbs that you can't even begin to name. You don't know how anyone can find what they're looking for on those shelves. It's a jumbled up mess, with little to no logic behind where everything is placed.

On one of the cots, you can see someone lying unconscious. You can't tell who it is with all of the people crowding around them, but if the somber mood of the room is any indication, it can't be good.

You wheel yourself over, leaving Karkat to talk to Terezi in a hushed voice about what happened. John is with the crowd around the occupied cot, but he doesn't look at you, so you do your best not to look at him. The people part for you, and you count about four familiar faces in the room. John, Jade, Sollux, and Rose. The others must be the medical staff, like Terezi. You hear one of the worrying about why Disciple isn't hear yet, but you don't really care. The sight on the bed takes a lot of your attention.

Fuck, and you thought that  _your_ wound looked bad.

Vriska hasn't been bandaged yet, so the full extent of the damage is on display. Her left eye, and in fact, the entire left side of her face, has been blown off. You can't see any bone, which you think is good, but her eye is gone, along with her eyelid. Her right eye looks singed, but you think that she should still be able to open it. The sight makes you gag a little, but what hasn't been blown off is blistered and cracked with third degree burns. Her left arm is gone, too, and her shirt luckily hides the sight of her muscles and tendons and bones hanging out of her body. Her left side has second and first degree burns lining it, and some of her shirt was burned open to make sure that you can  _really_  see them.

You turn your head away from the sight before you throw up. The only good news is that there's not much blood, other than where the blisters are so bad that they're making her skin crack open. The intense heat from the explosion must have done a great job at cauterizing her wounds. It's… kind of a fucked up realization.

The door to the infirmary is swung open, and Disciple stands in the doorway, her hair even messier than Karkat's and her clothes sloppily thrown on in her haste. "What happened?" She demands to know, walking over to see Vriska. She doesn't bat an eye at the unconscious and badly injured girl. "And why hasn't she been treated and bandaged yet? Get to it!"

The medical staff hurries to comply with her orders, scrambling around to get Vriska patched up. Everyone else either backs away from the cot or gets pushed out of the way if they don't move fast enough. Terezi grabs jars of herbs from the shelves, taking samples from various ones and putting them into a small, stone bowl. She mashes them together into a paste, adding water occasionally, and she has another person next to her to help tell her which herb is which. When she's finished, Terezi steps back, and the paste is taken and applied to the worst of Vriska's burns.

You honestly have no idea what they're doing.

You look away from them, turning your attention to Disciple. "Rose, what's the damage report?" She's asking, all serious and official. "What caused the explosion?"

And you must have been too distracted by Vriska to notice initially, but Rose looks… scared. Her face is even more pale than usual, and her hands are shaking a little where they are by her sides. "It's- it's not good." She manages after a moment. "Apparently, Vriska found where I was keeping my orb. I can only assume she did this by sneaking around when she was left alone. She had the twin to my orb, and I didn't think anything of it, but she… she tried to combine them. That kind of power… it was never meant to even  _exist_  in this world." She shakes her head. "They were both destroyed. I… I can't read the future anymore, Disciple. I'm sorry."

You only barely knew about your sister's orb of omnipotence. You knew that she had it, since she showed it to you when she first found it buried behind boxes of old dresses in the storage closet. It didn't do anything for you, so you quickly lost interest, but Rose spent the next week huddled over it, asking hushed questions that she swore she got answers to. You thought that she was just fucking with you at the time, but now… And of course, Karkat told you about the one Vriska had after his first meeting with her. And you noticed the similarities, sure, but they just blew up in Vriska's face. You can't deny that they're real anymore. Or, well, they  _were_ real. You figure that a tool like that could be seriously helpful for someone trying to fight an empress, and if the look on Disciples face is any indication, losing it is a huge blow.

She swallows thickly. "You're sure about this, Rose? There's no possible way to recover them?" Disciple sounds like she desperately wants the answer to be no, but Rose just nods and hangs her head with shame.

There's a moment of tense silence, and Disciple turns red with anger. "Out!" She snaps suddenly. "Everyone who isn't helping keep that stupid girl alive, get out! Now! I'm done with having children fight a war between adults! I want the group that you brought here in their rooms, and I want them to stay there!" She tells Rose, and you can feel the frustration rolling off of her in waves. "I've had enough of this. I'll contact the king of Morgona again. Maybe he'll finally provide assistance that's actually helpful."

Karkat takes a step forward. "What? That's not fair! We-"

He doesn't get anything else out, because Disciple whirls on him, a look in her eyes that immediately silences him. "You know what's not fair?" She asks, deathly quiet. "Spending the last twenty years trying to fix the biggest regret of your life and keep your child safe, only for him to show up on your front doorstep and refuse to stay out of the line of fire." You think that she's going to start crying again, but Disciple breaks eye contact, looking back to Rose. "I want the two intruders out by tomorrow night. You and everyone else may stay, but you step out of line, one order ignored, and you're all gone as soon as your little friend there can stand upright." She jerks a thumb at Vriska, then marches over to the door. "Don't make me repeat myself." Disciple warns you, her gaze sweeping around the room. She lingers on Karkat for a moment - like she wants to say something - but then she just shakes her head and storms out the door, gone.

Sollux swallows hard, looking at you and then at Karkat. "Well." He forces a little laugh. "It looks like we're fucked."

* * *

As it turns out, Vriska looks a lot worse than she actually is. She's awake by the afternoon, and by the time evening rolls around, the medical staff says that she's good enough to sleep in her own room instead of the infirmary. Most of the problem, apparently, is just burns. Well, she lost her left eye and her left arm, but there's not much that can be done about that. She's given an eye patch to hide the hole in her eye socket, and bandages are wrapped around her stump arm so that the worst of the gore is covered up. After that, it's mostly just constant paste that apparently helps soothe burns, praying that she doesn't get an infection, and waiting. Lots of waiting.

She doesn't talk. Before, you couldn't get Vriska to shut up, but she hasn't said a word since she opened her eyes. The only person she'll even come close to acknowledging is Terezi. "Are you in any pain?" She'll ask, and Vriska will nod. "Show me where," and Vriska will point to wherever it is on her body that's hurting the most at the moment. It's kind of… sad. You never would have imagined feeling bad for Vriska, but you know how she feels about people that are… broken. And now she's the most broken person here.

Curfew is in an hour. Disciple has set a time that everyone under the age of 25 needs to be in their rooms, but you know that she only did that to insure that your group is in bed without singling you all out again. You're all gathered in the dining area now, and you're the only ones here. Feferi, Eridan, Sollux, Kanaya, Rose, Nepeta, Karkat, John, Jade, Terezi, and Vriska. And you.

The mood is somber.

No one is saying anything, because no one is sure what to say. Eridan and Feferi are being kicked out tomorrow, and if Karkat is right about her being the Condesce's daughter, then… that's probably good. But you can't shake the feeling that maybe she could be helpful. The possibility is enough that you don't want her to leave. And if Eridan went through the same kind of training that you did to take over as head of the household when his dad passed on, then he should be gifted at sword fighting. You're going to need all of the fighters that you can get your hands on. You can feel it.

Finally, you sigh. "We can't just sit around and do nothing." You say, looking at your hands folded in your lap. "We've all come too far to stop now."

There are a few murmurs of agreement around the table, but you hear Nepeta sigh, and look up at her. "What's the point?" She asks, crossing her arms. It's the most that you've heard from her in a while. "We're basically children. And we have our orders. Why can't we just let the professionals do this?" You bite your lip, trying to think of a response. But the sad truth is, you don't know how to talk to Nepeta anymore. She hasn't been the same since she lost Equius.

"The point is that we aren't children." Karkat snaps, standing up and fixing her with a hard look. "Last I checked, I'm 21 years old. That is not a child. I'm a fucking adult, and I'm tired of staying in this fucking place. Rules and protocols and procedures, and older adults who think that their age automatically means that they know better. I'm ready to get back at that she-demon for what she did to me, as an employer, and as the woman who murdered my father." He looks around the table, daring someone to argue with him. No one ones.

"What can we do, though?" Sollux asks, crossing his arms with a dramatic little sigh. "It's great that you're all grown up and shit, Karkat, but we're still just a small group with little resources and just about no money. What do you expect to accomplish?"

Karkat doesn't seem to have a response to that. He opens his mouth, then frowns, and closes it, sitting back down with a sigh.

"Well," Rose starts, clearing her throat, "we can't do it alone, that much is clear. We need some help, or at least… an edge. The element of surprise." She bites her bottom lip, thinking, and then looks to you. "I have an idea. Disciple has been trying to get the king of Morgona to help out with the cause for several years now. He hasn't been convinced. But, Dave, if you could… go to him. As a fellow royal, I'm sure that he would gladly listen to the prince of Derse. He and dad were always good friends." She points out.

You start to reject the idea, but then you pause, thinking it over. "Actually… that could work." Jade perks up a little bit. "I mean, I'm not too experienced in the formalities of royals, but wouldn't he help if Dave asked him? Derse and Morgona have always been good trade partners. It would be in his best interest to help the future ruler." She smiles at you, and you notice John's frown tighten. Fuck. Okay, you really need to talk with Jade at some point soon.

"Well, yeah, but…" You frown, crossing your arms. "I'm sure that he would know me. The eyes are a huge give away. But we'd need to get rid of the chair. And I would have to be allowed to walk." You look to Terezi. "You're in charge of making sure I don't kill myself by splitting my stomach open, Terezi. What do you think?"

Terezi huffs, crossing her arms. Her eyebrows draw down, and if she had eyes that actually worked, she would probably be glaring at you. "I think that you're all fucking morons who need to learn to recognize when you're beaten. That being said…" She sighs a little, "as long as you aren't planning on running cross-country, your stitching should hold up fine if you just want to get up and walk a little bit. Your biggest problem is walking again. You haven't exactly gotten to do a lot of that. So, my advice? Stand on your own and walk without help, and you're golden." She suppresses a smile, shaking her head at you. You can't help but smile a little bit. Despite Terezi's talk of how stupid you all are, you can tell that she's on board. It's not like her to want to miss out on something like this.

"Can we come?" Feferi asks, gesturing to herself and Eridan. You can tell that she's been wanting to ask for a while, only barely restraining herself. "We're nobles from Derse, too, and it's all but unheard of for a prince or king to travel without any other nobles with him. You're unmarried, Dave, so you'll need a group with you." She argues.

And she's right. You'll need guards, servants, and if this is a friendly, non-professional visit, then other nobles are expected to be with you… "Alright." You sigh. "You're right. You and Eridan can come, then."

"Wait." Kanaya interrupts, staring at you all a little incredulously. "Are we all… really doing this? It is ludicrous. I do not mean to insult the future king of Derse, but this plan… it can not really work, can it? The Condesce is looking for you, Dave, and your parents are-" She stops herself there, and you feel the atmosphere of the room thicken with tension as everyone turns to look at Kanaya.

You blink, arching an eyebrow. You don't miss the way Rose gives Kanaya a pointed look, or how everyone immediately seems uncomfortable. "What about my parents?" You ask in an even voice, looking at everyone around the table. No one meets your gaze. You hesitate. "What aren't you guys telling me?"

There's a pause where no one says anything, and then Rose sighs, hanging her head. "I didn't want you to be worrying about it." She says, swallowing hard. "I- I was going to tell you eventually, I promise." Nervously, she drops her hands into her lap, fiddling with her skirt under the table.

You feel dread pooling in your stomach, and you force yourself to push for answers, even as the little voice in the back of your mind tells you that you don't want to know. "Rose. What is it?"

She doesn't reply, looking away from you. Finally, Karkat sighs, and you see an apology on his face as he begins to explain. "Dave… The Condesce put a price on your head." He begins. "It's all anyone is talking about. One million gold for anyone that can bring her the prince of Derse. You would be amazed how many blond boys are being carted into the city. I don't know how she can tell the difference, but they've all been rejected. People are looking for you, Dave. And… and your parents…" He sighs, "were executed. I'm sorry, Dave. She blamed it on a rogue terrorist group that also stole you from your royal quarters. Obviously, that's supposed to be us. She wants to destroy the monarchy. She wants you, dead."

You missed most of what Karkat said, admittedly.

Your gaze has narrowed to funnel vision, and you're hyperventilating. All you can hear is Karkat's voice, over and over,  _"your parents were executed your parents were executed your parents were executed,"_  playing on repeat in your head. They're dead? They can't be dead. Your parents are too strong to be killed. They were always so invincible and unbeatable. "You're lying." You say, and your words sound like someone else's as they echo in your ears. "My parents can't be dead." You get to your feet, staring holes in the table in front of you. Your stomach hurts, but you don't care. How can you care about something like that when your parents could be dead?  _No, they aren't dead_ , you have to remind yourself. They can't be.

"Dave…" You hear John's voice, and a hand on your shoulder. It must be serious if he's talking to you again. But you don't care.

"Don't touch me!" You shout, smacking his hand away. You stumble back, and almost hit the ground, but your wheelchair rolls back far enough that you don't trip over it. Your heart his pounding, your hands are shaking, and your vision is getting blurry.

They  _can't_ be dead.

You close your eyes, trying to block out the mess of colors and sounds. You hear people telling you to calm down and take deep breaths and sit back down so you can talk it out, but you aren't listening.

"You're all liars!" You snap, and despite the warnings shouted after you, you turn and run, flinging open the door to the dining area and taking off down the hall.

It feels so good to run after being restricted for so long. You don't even care that it makes your lungs tight and your breathing come hard and your head spin. You run until your legs are shaking and crumble underneath you. You have no idea where you are, but you don't care. Anywhere is better than being around those... liars. This isn't a very funny joke.

Your parents are  _not_ dead.

You gag, and a moment later, you're upending the contents of your stomach all over the floor in front of you. You're not sure if you do it because of the pain in your head or the pain stinging your abdomen, but you don't really care. Everything hurts. You prop yourself up on your hands and knees just so that you don't curl up in your own vomit, but you would lie on the floor and sleep for a week if you hadn't just soiled it.

You don't know what's wrong with you. When did you get so pathetic? Sure, before, you were sheltered and naive, but you were never this sad. What happened to you? Did one little stab wound really break you like this?

Tears are joining the vomit on the floor as you sob. You don't know why you don't move. Crying over a puddle of your own throw up isn't very smart, but you stay rooted to the spot. Maybe you just want it as a reminder. That, yes, you really are this disgusting. Maybe Vriska was right when she said that you were broken. Because this? This isn't something that normal, stable people do. People who are right in the head don't do as many stupid things as you just did.

You sit back after a moment, if only so that you can make sure you didn't split your stomach open by running after Terezi told you not to. You lift your shirt up, smoothing out the bandages, and sigh when you see that there's drops of red bleeding through the white wraps. Great. It's not enough to scare you or warrant alarm though, so you ignore it, sitting back against the wall and letting your eyes wring themselves dry. You don't know how long you sit there for, crying yourself empty and staring at the ceiling, before you hear running footsteps.

You wipe your eyes dry on your sleeve, but otherwise, you don't acknowledge that anyone is coming. What does it matter? Everyone already knows how pathetic you've gotten.

"Dave?" It's Karkat. Someone who likes you, at least. You hear the footsteps stop, and then you look up. He's right there, a look on his face that makes you have to turn away. You don't want to see the pity in his eyes - like you're just the most fragile thing in the world and he hates himself for splintering you. "Dave, are you…?" He starts to ask if you're okay, but the answer must already be pretty fucking obvious, because he doesn't finish. Instead, he kneels down next to you, and puts his arms around your shoulders, hugging you tight.

You sniffle, and crack yet again.

You don't say anything, and neither does he. Karkat just holds you tight against him, and lets you cling to his shirt, crying hard until you run out of water in your body. You bury your face in his shoulder throughout the ordeal, and he pets your hair and shushes you, and lets you cry.

And it's nice. In the back of your mind, all you can think about is how nice it is to have someone hold you and just let you sob.

* * *

Karkat helps scrape you off of the floor when you're done. Karkat reprimands you in the most mother-like voice for running off and splitting your stitches. Karkat forces glass after glass of water down your throat as you're seated in the infirmary, waiting for Terezi to show up and fix your stitches. It helps with the burning in your throat and makes you feel refreshed, even if it starts to make you sick after the fourth glass.

While he's making you drink, you have plenty of time to think. About Karkat. And how you need to appreciate him more. You never really stopped to notice before, but he's always been there for you. That month you were behind with your rent, he paid it for you. Whenever you needed someone to ramble to, his door was always open. He could have left you to die when he ended up stabbing you - saved himself the trouble of having to deal with the repercussions. But he didn't. Karkat saved your life. Karkat protected you - because  _he_ wanted to. He lets you be as vulnerable as you need to be, and he doesn't push you.

You think that Karkat is a really, really good friend.

So you tell him as much.

"You're a really good friend, Karkat." You say, staring at the wall directly in front of you. "I mean it. I… don't know where I would be without you."

Your words must trigger something, because Karkat stops refilling your water glass and looks over at you. "A good friend." He repeats. "Your… friend?" There's something in his words - something that you can't quite place. It's almost like… fear.

You nod. "Yeah. My friend." You look over at him, your face impassive. "What else would you be? I've known you for years, Karkat. I trust you more than anyone."

He swallows thickly, setting the half-full glass of water down on the edge of the sink and turning to you fully. "Right." He says, but his voice sounds a little clipped. "Your friend. Best friend. Of course, I…" He sighs, looking away, but when he looks back at you, he's smiling. If his smile is a little forced, you don't mention it. "Thanks, Dave. You're my best friend, too."

It doesn't feel like he's being entirely honest with you, but before you can call him out on it, the door swings open. Terezi walks in, a displeased scowl fixed on her face. Vriska is right behind her, but no one pays her any mind. She tends to just follow Terezi around everywhere, and no one wants to come between them.

"So," Terezi starts, opening a drawer and pulling out a spool of thin silk, "a little crab told me that you're a stupid fuck and split your stitchings. Is that right?"

You nod, lifting your shirt and exposing the splatters of red showing through your bandages. There's more than there was the first time you checked, but they don't seem to be getting any bigger. Not that you notice, anyway. "Yeah." You say tensely. "I… was running and I guess that they broke open. Somehow. I- I don't know how it happened."

Terezi sighs, rolling her eyes, and pushes you down onto your back before going to get a needle. "Of course you split yourself open." She mutters from the other side of the room. "No one ever listens to me..."

You turn red with embarrassment, but don't try arguing with her. She's kind of right, so what would be the point? " Sorry." You mutter instead, half-heartedly.

"Save your breath." Terezi smacks you on the chest, and turns to Karkat. "Go wait out in the hall. I don't really need you in here fussing over him when I'm trying to stick him with a needle. You'll see him when we're done here."

Karkat doesn't seem to appreciate being talked to like that, but he purses his lips and nods anyway, leaving the room. You suppose that he doesn't want to piss off the blind girl with the needle. You can respect that.

Your shirt is pushed up, and then taken off entirely. You raise your arms to help Terezi get it off, but try not to move too much. She cuts the bandages off of you, exposing your scarred up stomach. You don't look, mostly because you're worried about what you might or might not see there. Terezi tisks like she's displeased, and you feel the blade of her small dagger by your stomach. She uses it to cut the stitches already there, and then she sets it down.

"Okay, Dave, this might feel a little weird. Please,  _please_ try not to move or squirm. If you're in so much pain that you start to cry or need to scream, then let me know. It shouldn't hurt that bad, so that means that something is wrong okay?" Terezi waits for you to nod, and then she takes a deep breath. "Great. Okay. Here we go…"

Having a string pulled out of you feels just as weird as you had anticipated.

You can actually  _feel_ it tugging on your skin, sliding out of you… it's disgusting, and makes you shiver all over. Luckily, it's over pretty quickly. Terezi pulls your old stitches out, and tosses them to the side. "You've healed up nicely, Dave." She remarks, gently placing her hand over your stomach and prodding at a few sensitive areas. "Better than I expected, actually. I'm only going to be doing a few stitches - it doesn't look like you need them, but tell me immediately if you start bleeding again. And no running. Ever. At all. I mean it. Until you're back in perfect health, you consult me before doing anything physical. Better safe than sorry, Dave."

Getting stitched back up somehow feels even weirder than having the stitches removed.

You grip the edge of the cot to keep yourself still, clenching your teeth against the pain. It's not unbearable, but this definitely doesn't feel pleasant. The silk string tugs at your skin, moving inside of you… Fuck, you hate it. If you never see another needle again, it will be too soon.

Finally, Terezi finishes up. "Done." She announces, setting the needle and string to the side. "Stay there, Dave. I'm going to give you some courtesy bandages. Pretty soon, I don't even think that you'll be needing them."

She opens the drawer where the bandages are kept, and then frowns. "Huh. I could have sworn that they were in here…" You hear her rustling through the drawers containments, and then sigh. "Fuck. Hold on, Dave. I'll go find them. Just give me a minute." Terezi mutters to herself, visibly agitated as she turns and leaves the room.

And you're alone with Vriska.

Fantastic.

For a minute, neither of you says anything. You close your eyes and think calming thoughts, and she seems just fine with staring at the wall. Then, you hear her lips smack together, as if she's unfamiliar with using them, and she sighs.

"You know…" Vriska starts, and you open your eyes, turning your head to look at her, "just before those orbs exploded in my face… I saw what I had been after. Perfect omnipotence. I saw everything. Past, present, future - every conceivable possibility for every person who ever existed, and even some people that never did at all. Do you know what that kind of power feels like, Dave? It was just for one second. For one second, I was a God. I saw everything. It was all mine to control and influence and bend to my will. And do you know what I realized?" She turns to look at you then, her one good eye blinking at you as her dead, dead gaze latches onto your very soul. "I realized that I don't want that kind of power. I can't  _handle_ that kind of power. That's why it blew up. And my Sight…" She reaches up, touching the eyepatch over her busted eye, and looks away, letting her hair hide her face from view. "It made me see how little this matters in the grand scheme of things, Dave. So do what you need to do. You know what needs to happen, and I know that you were going to ask for my opinion anyway, so here it is; throw caution to the wind. Do it."

She reaches into her pocket, and pulls out Terezi's bandages. You think that you see the faintest hint of a smirk on her face through her curtain of hair. You blink, and slowly, you nod.

Because she's right.

You do know what needs to happen next.

When Terezi comes back, Vriska hands her the bandages wordlessly. Other than raising a single, question eyebrow, Terezi doesn't react to this. She bandages you up, gives you a pat on the back, and lets Karkat back into the room. Rose is with him, and you can't really say that you're surprised. She still looks guilty, but you don't really have time for that. There are more important things on your mind.

"Dave-" She starts, but you shake your head and hold up a hand to silence her, and she quiets down.

"Forget it." You tell her. "I don't want an apology. I understand why you didn't tell me, and I forgive you. I'm over it."

That seems to surprise her. Rose arches an eyebrow, and then purses her lips, thoughtful. "I see." She says slowly. Then, "But you want to talk about something. I can tell." There's a smirk on her lips, and you smile faintly. That's better. You hate when Rose is guilty.  _This_ is the sister you know and love.

"Yes." You nod. "I'm not ready to give up, Rose, and I'm tired of sitting back and letting this shit happen without doing anything about it. I want to do your idea. I want to go to Morgona and get support against the Condesce. For our parents, and everyone else she will and has hurt."

The faintest hint of a smile tugs at her lips. Rose nods. "I thought that you might say that. You know that I'll be with you every step of the way, Dave." She promises. "For better or worse."

Karkat clears his throat, and your smile falls as you turn to give your attention to him. "Dave." He fixes you with a glare. "You must be out of your goddamn mind if you think that I'm going to let you do this."

You glare back at him, challenging and unwavering. "You don't control me, Karkat. And you can't stop me." You shoot right back.

But instead of arguing, Karkat merely shakes his head. "You didn't let me finish." He sighs in exasperation. "I was going to say, "you must be out of your goddamn mind if you think that I'm going to let you do this…" without me."

You smile, chuckling a little as you wrap your arms around Karkat and hug him tight against you. "Thank you." You whisper into the crook of his neck. Karkat doesn't say anything - he doesn't need to. He just hugs you back, and you understand through the gesture alone that he would do so much more for you if you would only ask.

"Well," Rose starts when you pull back from him, no longer trying to hide her smile, "what are you going to do, Dave?"

You meet her stare, thinking for only a moment before you decide. "Get everyone who wants to go." You say. "We're leaving tomorrow for Morgona."


	29. Watch Me Drown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selfish, taking what I want and call it mine.  
> I'm helpless, clinging to a little bit of spine.  
> They rush me, telling me I'm running out of time.  
> They shush me, walking me across a fragile line.

If you had it your way, you would go alone.

But, as Rose so kindly points out the next day when you ask why she brought two carriages instead of just one, that would be fucking stupid and you are fucking stupid for thinking she would be fucking stupid enough to allow that.

Vriska and John aren't talking to you, but their respective mouth pieces, Terezi and Jade, fill you in on why they and all of your friends are going with you for this one. You're not convinced that it's a good idea, but they're all collectively much more stubborn than you are.

Jade, John, Rose, Kanaya, and Vriska have offered to pose as your servants. Everyone has assumed that Rose is dead, so you can understand why she doesn't want to go as your sister instead. Karkat and Nepeta are coming as your private guards. As he puts it, they have been training together a lot recently, and Nepeta is a very gifted fighter. You're skeptical, but you know that Karkat wouldn't lie to you, so you begrudgingly accepted that without asking questions. Terezi is going as your physician, and Vriska is coming because she doesn't want Terezi to go at all, and wants to be able to insure her friend's safety. Or, that's how Terezi puts it, anyway. She seems kind of annoyed by the whole thing, but she isn't complaining. Eridan and Feferi are going as your entourage, and Sollux is going as Feferi's fiance. She likes the idea, and sticks with it, no matter how much Eridan argues that a noble girl doesn't marry a common man, and she certainly doesn't bring him to social gatherings with her. And he has a point, but you said that you don't care, and he eventually just settled on grumbling to himself in the corner.

You are leaving in the afternoon.

Rose had explained that it hadn't been easy to get the carriages out of the storage house, considering that she needed the nicest ones they had, as well as the finest horses from the barn. She said that it wasn't going to be long until Disciple noticed that they were up to something, so time was the most important key at play here.

Which meant that you didn't have the time to try and figure out a way to do this alone.

So, despite your concerns, when the time came to leave, you let yourself be led into the carriage. You were riding with Eridan, Feferi, Sollux, and Karkat, the latter of whom would be driving the carriage. Your servants and physician would be in the other carriage, the less fancy one. Nobles were all about appearances, which meant that you had been forced into the finest outfit that Rose could find on such short notice. Which was stolen from one of the guards who stayed in the Violet Wing. You didn't know all the details, but apparently, he's the son of a wealthy viscount, orphaned and left with their money, but not the right of the household. You don't really care. The important thing is, he had a suit and robe with him that, after you put on, even Sollux agreed that you looked like a prince.

And so, you were off. Within two days of travel, you would be at the capital of Morgona to request an audience with the king. Rose had said that, despite this, you had to keep a low profile. You were still very much wanted by the Condesce, and anyone could see you and report you to her for the reward. You wanted to ask Feferi if she knew what her mom intended to do if she got her hands on you, but no. You didn't want to assume that they were related, and you didn't want to believe that Feferi was going to double-cross you. If she was. You didn't think of her as the type to do that, but Rose did say that you shouldn't trust anyone…

The carriage ride is one of the most awkward things that you've ever experienced. And that is saying  _a lot_.

You can tell that Sollux and Feferi want to be kissing or hugging or touching each other in any way, but that's a little hard to do with Eridan sitting between the two of them. He seems annoyed and smug at the same time, which is honestly a really weird expression to see on a person's face. Feferi is just frowning, and Sollux looks about two seconds away from throwing Eridan out of the window. Then again, he's looked like that for about five minutes now, so you don't think that you have to worry about him actually doing it.

You drum your fingers against your leg, tap your foot, and even start to whistle until a glare from Sollux makes you stop. Anything to make this ride go any faster. It's only been - what? - ten minutes, if that? And you already want to pull your hair out.

"So." You cough finally, gaining the attention of three rather unhappy pairs of eyes. "Um… Eridan, why don't you come sit over here next to me?" You scoot over a little bit, patting the spot next to you.

He looks torn (it's not every day that a prince asks you to sit with him), looking to Feferi and then back at you before taking a little breath. "No, thank you, my prince." He murmurs, looking down.

Feferi gaps at him, and you see that surprise turning into anger so quickly that it makes you wince. "What is your problem?" She snaps, glaring hard at Eridan. She would probably be standing if she wasn't in a carriage. "Every time I'm around Sollux, you get all pissy! Why do you hate him so much? I'm not a mind reader, Eridan, just tell me what's gotten into you! You're never usually like this!"

"Are you really that fuckin' blind?" Eridan all but screams at her, turning red with anger. "Fef, I am in lovve wwith you!" She swallows hard at the admission, and Feferi opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Not that it matters, because Eridan has been holding this in for what you can only assume to be most of his life, and he's nowhere near done. "I thought that I wwas bein' obvvious wwith you, but either you didn't notice or you just didn't wwant to disappoint me wwith a rejection! Howw did you nevver notice, Fef? I'vve lovved you since wwe wwere eight shittin' years old! And I wwouldn't havve a problem wwith you datin' another guy if you wwould just fuckin' reject me already and put me out of my misery! Or- or at least, not date someone so grossly under qualified to be wwith you like  _this_ jackass." He gestures to Sollux without turning his head, and by this point, you think that he's all but forgotten his audience. "For _fucks sake,_   _Fef_! Howw are you this fuckin'  _cruel_?"

No one says anything.

Eridan stares at Feferi for a long, long time, searching her face for the answer that her mouth can't seem to give. Maybe he's even a little bit hopeful. But whatever he sees there must not be what he wants, because he sighs and gets up, moving to sit next to you instead. You see Sollux reach over and take Feferi's hand, mouthing something to her, and she just shrugs and looks out the window. You don't blame her for not being in the mood to make out right now.

"I guess that's the rejection." Eridan mutters, so quiet that you barely catch it at all.

Somehow, these three fuckheads managed to make the carriage ride even more awkward than it already was. Plus, you're starting to pity the guy who was willing to slit your throat.

Goddamn it.

* * *

You thought that you were all going to spend the night at an inn and continue the journey in the morning, but Rose has something else in mind. She has both carriages stop next to a river, and has everyone come out so that she can explain a few things.

"Alright, everyone." She's saying now, looking out over the group now that you're all out of the carriages. "As you all know, there's a… significant bounty on Dave's head, so it's too dangerous to stay the night in a public inn where someone could spot him. So, tonight, we're going to be camping out by this river. It cuts through a mountain range just a little north of here, and it will be a lot easier to reach the capital if we follow the river. Does everyone understand?" Nodding, and a chorus of "yes," and Rose smiles. "Great. Start unpacking what you need to sleep tonight. We'll continue traveling in the morning."

Everyone disperses to get what they need. You can't help but feel a little relieved that no one has offered to help you yet. You hope that people are finally starting to see that you're capable of taking care of yourself. You go over to your carriage, unstrapping your bag of basic necessities from the back of it. Sollux and Rose seem to be on horse duty, letting them drink from the river and feeding them and brushing their manes out. Karkat and Nepeta didn't bring much of anything with them besides a blanket or a pillow or two and their weapons, so now they're just practicing sparring off to the side of the group. Nepeta looks pretty good. They work well together, you think. It's clear that they're comfortable around each other, at any rate.

You sigh, setting your things down and looking around for something to do. John is working on starting a fire, and Jade is setting up where she'll be sleeping tonight. You hesitate, but you know that you can't put off doing this forever, so you bite your lip and begrudgingly walk over to her.

"Hey. Jade?" You tap on her shoulder, and she looks up, smiling when she sees you. It just twists your heart with even more guilt. "Can I talk to you for a minute? In private."

Her smile falters for a second, but Jade nods, getting to her feet. "Of course." She agrees, wiping her hands off on her skirt. "What do you need?"

You don't say anything, instead taking her hand and leading her off to the side of the group. You go until the sound of people talking is a faint buzz in the distance, and you take a deep breath, dropping Jade's hand. "I… I need to tell you something." You say nervously. Fuck. You're going to lose her and John both, aren't you?

"Dave?" Jade puts a concerned hand on your shoulder. "Are you okay? You know that you can tell me anything. I won't judge you."

You aren't sure if that's entirely true, but you nod anyway. "I know." You murmured, taking her hand and turning to face her. "I need to be honest with you, Jade. I'm sorry- it's just a little hard to get out." You keep trying to think of how to word this, but the only ideas you come up with are either stupid or insensitive, or both.

"Just spit it out." She coaxes, gentle with you even when you really, really don't deserve it. "I promise that it's not as bad as you think." Jade smiles, and you feel supremely bad for what you're about to tell her.

"Okay. Alright." You close your eyes, gathering your wits. And also, this way, you don't have to look at her expression. "I'm… I'm into guys, Jade."

Silence.

For a long, long moment, Jade doesn't move or say anything or react at all to what you told her. She might as well be a statue. "Oh." She says finally, her voice quiet. "I… wow, Dave. I don't think that you knew this, but… I kind of already knew that."

Your eyes fly open, and you yank your hands from her hold. "What?" You shout, indigent. "How did you know? Did John tell you?" He had said that he was going to make  _you_ tell Jade. But did he tell her anyway, just to fuck with you? You don't know if you want to strangle him or hug him.

"What? No, of course not!" Jade shakes her head, dispelling your fears. "I- to be honest, Dave, I've suspected it for a while now. I just didn't want to say anything. I-" She bites her lip, looking away from you. "You know that I- that I really love you. And… from the beginning, I knew that you didn't feel the same way. I'm so sorry, Dave. When you asked me out, I- I should have just said no and done us both a favor. I forced this relationship for selfish reasons. Please don't be angry." She's wringing her hair in her hands, eyes downcast as she curls in on herself with guilt.

You blink. "Are you… crying?" You reach out, brushing Jade's hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. Her eyes look watery, but you think it's more from the fear of losing you than the breakup.

Nodding, Jade sniffles, wiping her eyes. "Y-Yeah." She laughs, but it's far from happy. "I'm just- fuck, Dave, I'm so sorry. All of this is my fault. Can you- can you forgive me? I understand if you- if you really can't-" She doesn't get to finish, cut off as you wrap her in a hug and squeeze so tight that your own arms are a little sore from the effort.

Other than making a small grunt of pain when your hold gets a little too tight, Jade doesn't make a sound, just reaching her arms around to hug you back. Her gentle hold is a startling contrast to your crushing one, but slowly, you relax into it the way that she is.

"I can't be mad at you." You murmur, nuzzling into her hair and sighing affectionately. "I… I kissed John behind your back. That's why he isn't talking to me. I'm sorry - whether I was happy with the relationship or not, I should have just ended things, not started flirting with someone else."

Jade sighs, more fond and a little exasperated than sad. Which you think is a good sign. "That explains things, then." She mutters. "Look, Dave, it's- it's okay. Really. I'm not mad at you, and you're not mad at me, so…" She bites her lip, pulling back but clasping your hands so firmly that you're scared to see what will happen if she lets go. "Can we just… move on? I would really love to just put this whole mess behind us." Again, she laughs. The sound of it breaks your heart.

You cup her cheek, brushing her hair out of her eyes, and gently wipe away her remaining tears. "You're so important to me, Jade." You breath, just barely loud enough to fill the space between the two of you. "I love you."

Somehow, she manages a smile. "I love you, too, Dave. Even if it's… not in the same way." You nod, giving her hand a little squeeze of reassurance.

You don't know how long the two of you stand like that, just holding onto each other and calming down and enjoying the warmth of another person next to you. When you finally do part, though, Jade's eyes are puffy, and her face is a little red, but the tears have stopped. She takes a deep breath to collect herself, then looks back to the campsite. The sun has long since set, whispers of red and orange hues tickling the horizon to the West where it disappeared. There's a frigidness to the night air, and the fire that you can see in the distance is tempting. But Jade takes one look at you and smiles.

"Take as long as you need." She tells you quietly. You just manage a nod. For a second, it looks like she has something else on her mind to say, but she must decide against it, because all she says is, "Goodnight, Dave," and leans up to kiss you on the cheek before walking away.

You take a deep breath. You clench your hands and unclench them. You look around, observing your surroundings in the twilight, objects in the distance nothing more than shadows in the absence of light. You force yourself to smile until it feels natural.

Because you fixed at least one thing, today. You're not a horrible person. You are  _capable_.

And you're going to end this war.

* * *

The next morning, everyone packs up to leave again. None of you are very enthusiastic or awake yet, quietly and privately working to get your own things put away. Apparently, sleeping on the ground is uncomfortable. Who would have guessed? You were too tired to really care about the ground once you finally went to sleep, but your back aches like a motherfucker now, and you miss the castle for the first time since this whole thing started. At least there, you had a nice bed. And a masseuse that could easily get the knots out of your spine, but that's besides the point.

"Is everyone all packed up?" Rose asks, looking around the campsite. The only thing that remains as proof that you were ever even here is a burn mark in the earth where the fire was. Everyone either nods or responds with an affirmative, and Rose sighs. "Alright. Then everyone to the carriages - we have to get through the mountain pass by noon if we're going to arrive on schedule."

The mountain pass in question is off in the distance, so small that putting your hand up covers the pass she is talking about. The actual mountain range stretches into the distance, rolling waves of earth, sharp and pointed and deadly as they reach high enough to pierce the sky.

You all get into the carriages, ready to leave. As predicted while you waited the approaching ride with trepidation, the atmosphere is immediately awkward. Feferi and Sollux are sitting closer than they dared to yesterday, but they don't kiss or hold each other or even dare to make eye contact. You notice that Eridan isn't looking at them. He seems content to glare out the window, but even so, you can't say that his expression strikes you as… angry. He looks like someone trying hard to cover up his hurt.

How much longer do you have to be here, again?

You look out your own window, watching as the landscape gradually begins to angle upwards around you. Rose wants to follow the river through the mountain pass, which is a little difficult to accomplish. The bank next to the river is too narrow to fit carriages, and besides which, had eroded the soft ground to the point that a ravine had been carved straight through the mountains. The fall wasn't too far - about fifty feet from the top to the icy embrace of the water below.

As such (most people had a very strong fear of a slow and bitter death, you see), they couldn't follow the river exactly. Centuries of travel had left behind a path nonetheless, the edge of the ravine just far enough that you weren't worried about falling into it.

The tall rocky walls make you a little nervous, though. They're almost curling in - like a clawed hand threatening to crush you in its grip. Your mood isn't helped any by how barren the mountain valley is. You don't see a blade of grass anywhere, and not a single cricket is chirping. Nothing stirs - there's no life to be stirred, after all.

You find yourself hoping for the horses to go faster. Is this as fast as they can go? It feels like walking would be faster. You don't care how unsteady the ground may be. You're getting antsy - fidgeting in place and tapping your fingers against your thigh. You have a bad feeling about this place…

The ride is a little bumpy, but you don't mind. The carriage pulls you and your friends closer to the other side of the mountains, and you're eager to get there. High above your head, the mountain peaks are even blocking out sunlight. You're not surprised that hardly anything at all grows down here, with how little light it gets. You honestly expect to see snow any second now.

You sigh, shifting, and lean forward towards Feferi and Sollux. They're sitting on the side with the divider that lets you talk to carriage driver, and you're reaching for it with intent to ask Karkat to speed up when something stops you. Eyes widening, your eyes pick up something glimmering outside the window. It… almost looks to be getting… closer…

You duck at the last second, covering your head as an arrow narrowly misses shattering the window and buries itself in the side of the carriage. The arrow head is poking through the wall, right where your head would have been, and you swallow hard.

What happens next is a chain reaction of sorts.

Feferi screams, causing Karkat to stop the horses, and behind you, Rose stops her horses as well, leaving you all smack dab in the middle of a valley with at least one archer watching you, unmoving targets.

It would be almost too easy to kill you all.

You hear Karkat getting down from the driver's bench outside, and see the door open as he comes to investigate. At the very least, the door isn't on the same side that the arrow came from. If there's one good thing, it's that.

"What-?" He starts, only for Eridan to grab him by the cloak and yank him down onto the floor of the carriage. The floor is crowded enough with four full-grown people and Feferi's fucking enormous skirt, but you don't feel the need to complain with your heart hammering in your ears and your adrenaline pumping hard.

"Howw did someone knoww wwe wwould be here?" Eridan asks, narrowing his eyes at Karkat as he speaks barely above a whisper. "Wwe need to movve - wwe can't just stay here and wwait to be picked off evvery time wwe poke our heads out." What he's saying makes sense, but something about this situation still bothers you. Something… isn't right, but what?

"Wait." Sollux says suddenly, holding out a hand to keep Karkat from moving. "This isn't right. Why hasn't the archer shot our horses yet to keep us from getting away?"

His words hang in the air and, blinking hard against your blurring vision, you reply thickly, "Because he already knows that we won't be getting away. He's not alone. Alive prisoners are worth more than dead ones, at any rate."

Karkat looks out the door, to the side at the other carriage, and sighs. "They must have gotten the hint. Everyone over there is in the carriage." His gaze shifts back to you. "What do we do now? I can't drive this damn thing without getting shot at, and if I lose control because I'm bleeding heavily from my neck, we could go right off the edge of the ravine." You can see it in his eyes - the dawning revelation that you're all fucked. Karkat won't admit it, but there aren't any options that don't end either in death or in capture.

Frankly, you aren't sure which option you would prefer.

You start to say something, but the sound of a faint rumbling in the distance makes you pause. "Hey. Do you guys hear that?" You move towards the door, closer to Karkat, trying to see out. He pushes you back, shaking his head, and frowns as he tries to hear what you mentioned.

"Yeah…" Eridan agrees slowly, looking around. "That's… fuckin' Christ, that's familiar, but I don't knoww wwhat it is."

"Um." Feferi taps on your shoulder to get your attention, and the points out the door. "I… I think I know what it is." Her voice is scarcely louder than a whimper, her usually bright blue eyes wide with fear.

Almost in sync, the four of you turn your head to see what she was talking about. A shudder runs down your spine, chilling you to the bone. " _Fuck_." Sollux whispers, and you have to agree.

You don't know how many men there are in total, but it must be well into the hundreds if the sound of them running down the mountain is generating such a thunderous roar. You can't take it all in properly - your mouth and eyes competing to be wider than the other as you try and fail to absorb the sheer scope of the men before you. Men with spears, swords, crossbows, maces, battle axes, and some weapons that you can't even name. All of them, decked out in chainmail armor. You don't see anyone on horses, but that hardly makes you feel any better about your chances against this group - no, more like an  _army_.

You feel a hand tighten around your arm as you're abruptly yanked from the carriage. "Everyone!" Karkat shouts, giving you a shove to move you along. "Jump! Off the ravine - go! It's got to be better than whatever they're going to do to us!"

You stumble forward, but don't go the edge of the ravine like Karkat told you to. "I'm not going anywhere without everyone else." You growl. You feel a flair of determination in your chest, and your gaze is hard as you stare Karkat down. The army is getting closer with every second that you spend dallying, but you don't care. Rose, Jade, John… you can't just leave them.

Shouting out with frustration, Karkat moves over to the second carriage, throwing the door open and barking orders at them as he did to you. They all hurry to comply, Vriska dragging Terezi to her feet, and John and Kanaya getting out of the carriage just in time for the arrows to start raining down.

All you can do is stare at the sky, flooded with soaring arrows that arch high and come right back down to the ground. Right towards you. Distantly, you wonder where they came from, but then all you're thinking about is where your breath has gone. You've been pushed to the ground, narrowly avoiding an arrow to the head.

You can't breathe - all you can make is this pathetic little wheezing sound as you blink the dust out of your eyes and look up at who pushed you out of the way. "Karkat-" You manage. Somehow, you aren't surprised. "What are you-"

Karkat groans, pain and annoyance in his tone as he puts a hand on his shoulder. It's only then that you notice the blood soaking his shirt and the arrow sticking out of his back. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up." He tells you, one word at a time, taking deep breaths. "I told you to go, Dave, so go! I need you to be safe. Please-" His voice cracks, and he stops abruptly, getting off of you and climbing to his feet. You can tell that moving hurts horribly, but every time you attempt to help him out, he just bats your hands away.

You do a quick survey of the damage - Rose and Jade shut themselves in the carriage just in time to avoid getting struck. The same goes for Feferi, Eridan, and Sollux - neither of them seem to want to leave her alone. Terezi had resorted to shoving Vriska to the ground to protect her, huddling over her like Karkat did for you. You don't see any blood on her, but you can't be certain that she isn't hurt anyway. You don't see John or Nepeta or Kanaya anywhere, and you hope that they managed to jump off.

You turn to Karkat, a pleading look in your eyes. "I'm not going anywhere without you." You insist, taking his hands, even as the army gets so close that you can make out the length of the men's beards.

He just shakes his head. "Jump." Karkat tells you again. "I need to get everyone else out of here. I  _promise_ that I'll see you at the bottom."

You start to argue, but get cut off. "Enough of this." Vriska glares at you and Karkat in turn as she approaches you. You notice a slight limp in her hurried steps. Something that happened when she hit the ground, maybe? She latches onto your arm, giving a hard tug. "We don't have the time! Dave, you are sadly the most important person in this group right now. I will drag you over the edge myself if I have to." She threatens.

To your surprise, Karkat nods. "Do it." He agrees. "Both of you, go. Now! I'll be right behind you!"

He gives you a little shove,your but you don't budge, instead fixing Karkat with a glare. "You're lying." You hiss, daring Karkat to argue with you. It's all over his face - you can see the thinly-veiled deceit in his eyes.

But rather than argue, Karkat smiles a little sadly, and cups your cheek. "Yeah." He says quietly. "But I'm not worth dying for, Dave. You are."

Your argument dies on your lips, and instead of words, what comes out is a breathy little gasp as you feel Karkat pressing his mouth to yours. You barely get a moment to process the feeling. It's like the first time, warm and perfect and so, so satisfying. And it doesn't last anywhere near long enough. A hand tightens around your forearm, and you're wrenched away from Karkat so fast that it makes your head spin.

"Wait-" You say as you finally come back to your senses, pulling against Vriska's hold as she runs to the ravine, dragging you with her. Panic grips you, keeping you from putting up a better fight as you watch Karkat turn his back to you and face the upcoming hoard. You see them rip open the door of the second carriage, pulling Jade and Rose out by the hair. Whatever happens next, you don't see, your vision blurred by tears of desperation and anger, and your ears ringing with their screams. "Vriska, no, wait, we can't-!"

She's done listening to you, though, and when you feel your feet leave the ground, you close your eyes, entrusting gravity to handle the rest for you.

You hit water instead of ground, and as your world fades to black, your last thought is how you wish that you could have died with the rest of them before all thought is lost with your body in the raging stream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, I hope that this was good enough to leave you guys with for two weeks.


	30. We Can't Go On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chaos, this calamity.  
> This garden once was perfect.  
> Give your immortality to me.  
> I'll set you up against the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized how short this chapter was. Sorry, guys. The next one is longer. I think. 

It actually feels a lot like dying. Hitting the water, that is. You had always thought that water would break your fall smoothly, but it feels like hitting a slab of stone. Your head pounds, and you're not sure if it's from hitting the water, or if it's because you can't breathe. Even if you weren't being swept away by the river, you don't think breathing would be very likely. Your lungs feel crushed - unusable. You're dizzy from the start, disoriented. What happened? What  _is_ happening? It's all too much too much too much and you can't think can't breathe can't handle it.

You gasp for air, feel the ice water flood your lungs in its place. You choke, sucking up more in the process. You can't breathe. It hurts it hurts it hurts so bad, your lungs feel like they're on fire, little daggers stabbing you in the chest, and you would be crying if you could remember how to beyond how hard you're choking. You're tumbling, twisting in the water. Which way is up? Opening your eyes doesn't help you reorient yourself at all. You underestimated how hard it is to see through the water - it's just blue and white and black, changing like a kaleidoscope as you're tossed around like a rag doll by the current. Everything aches, and you're so cold that it burns. You don't know how you're still conscious, but the black beginning to seep into the edges of your vision is more than welcome. Yes, you want to be unconscious. You want this to stop and end and you just want all of this to be over. All of it.

Something wraps around your arm. You don't know what it is, but you don't care. It takes too much thought to care. It's dragging you down, or is it up? You can't tell. You don't even think to put up a fight through the way your head is pounding. But maybe that's just your skull knocking against the bottom of the river. The fact that you can't tell the difference should probably alarm you.

You break the surface gasping for air. Your eyes fly open, and your body automatically convulses, and you choke on the air even as you suck it in, struggling. It hurts to breathe. It would have been more merciful to just let you drown. You can feel someone by your side, patting your back hard in an attempt to help you cough out the river water. It's not very easy to cough and choke and desperately struggle to breathe all at the same time. Everything just gets caught in your throat. Frankly, you're just amazed that you haven't thrown up yet with the way you're convulsing and choking.

"...just breathe." Someone says off to the side, and you feel another pair of arms wrap around you. They're gentler than the first pair, rubbing your back gently and trying to soothe you. "Calm down. Panicking won't help. Just. Breathe."

You aren't sure how long you sit there for, trying to regain your vision even as it swims in and out of focus. You don't know if that's because of the lack of oxygen in your brain, or the river water that's probably permanently soaked your retinas. You eventually just settle for closing your eyes, your coughing turning to wheezing and eventually just hard breaths while you calm yourself down.

"You okay?" The gentler voice asks, and now you're aware enough to recognize who's speaking. "Shit, you didn't try to swim at all. I thought you were going to drown."

You shake your head, nudging John back a bit so you can cough, hard enough to hack up a lung. "I… I never learned how to swim." You mutter. "It wasn't-" you wheeze, "-it wasn't necessary.  _Fuck_ , that hurts."

The one who dragged you out of the water sighs. You turn to look, and are surprised by who you see there. "Vriska?" You blink, surprised. "How did you manage to- to drag me out with one arm missing?"

She looks at you like you're stupid, but you suppose that maybe you are. "John held onto my shirt while I grabbed you." Vriska tells you after a moment. "But I can't imagine why. It isn't like you're going to be much help getting back up there."

John glares at her, but then his expression softens and loses it's edge. He looks tired. There weren't any bags under his eyes before this whole mess started. "Here, let's get you a little dried off." He says after a moment, helping you up. "We were going to start a fire, but we don't have anything to do it with. Still, Nepeta found us a place to rest and hide if someone comes down here to scout for us."

You lean on John, appreciating the help and the warmth as he helps you forward. Your legs are a little shaky, and feel kind of beat up, but you don't complain. "Nepeta made it, too?" You ask.

"Yeah." John nods. "Her and Kanaya both. The others, uh…" he bites his lip, anxiously looking away. "Me and Vriska were watching the river, but… nothing else yet."

You don't reply. Your head still feels a little faint and the world is a bit hard to grasp, so you don't quite understand the magnitude of what he's implying. Rose and Jade and Karkat… Fuck. They're all still back up there, aren't they? Or dead at the bottom of the river. At least you have John - you don't know how you would manage if you lost everyone close to you that quickly.

And Karkat…

But now isn't the time to think about the implications of that kiss. First, you need to figure out a way back to the top of the ravine and make sure that he's safe. Then you can pester him with your questions and insecurities.

Most likely followed by kissing him.

Shit, why is that idea so appealing? And why do you keep coming back to it?

John leads you to a crack in the side of the ravine wall just barely big enough for you to squeeze through if you turn your body sideways.

You ease your way in, squinting against the darkness. You can just barely see your hands in front of your face, but that's probably because you're blocking most of the light that could come in. At night, this place must be impossible to find. You put a hand on the wall next to you, easing yourself forward step by step. You hear John coming in behind you, but don't say anything. "Just keep going." He instructs you quietly.

You do as he says, breath held with nervous anticipation. In darkness like this, the floor could give way just a few steps ahead and you would never know until it was too late. How deep even is this cave? You can't see anything anymore - the light can't penetrate this deep.

"Over here." You hear Kanaya's soft voice penetrate the nothingness. You pause, then head towards where you heard her voice coming from. You wish that there was a fire in there. But getting enough wood is one thing, not to mention actually making a spark with how little you can see. And starting a fire in such closed quarters isn't exactly recommended.

You jump when your hand brushes something warm, and you stiffen up completely when you feel said thing move. You're about to make a run for it when a hand wraps around yours, holding tight. "Shh." Nepeta? You think that's the most you've heard her say in a while. "We're right here, John."

She helps you, guiding you to sit down. "I'm actually Dave." You say once you're seated, and Nepeta hums in acknowledgement, but otherwise doesn't seem to care. You really wish that you knew how to talk to Nepeta. You used to be pretty close to get, but after Equius died, you can't get a read on her personality. Does she even  _have_ a personality anymore? She just seems so… empty. You hate not knowing how to help.

You hear John come to sit next to you, a hand on your shoulder to steady himself. "We should check on your bandages." He mutters, mostly as a second thought.

You manage a weak chuckle. "What's left of them, anyway." You reach up your shirt, grimacing as you peel off some of the soaked bandages still stuck to your skin. It comes off in little flakes, and you spend a few minutes absentmindedly picking them off. You're working on a little pile of them in front of you, though you can't see your progress in this darkness.

It's starting to get cold in here. You don't know if it's because you're soaking wet, or because the rock around you has never once seen the sun, but it doesn't take long for you to start shivering. You don't complain, using your shaking hands to continue cleaning your stomach off. You can hear the rest of them shivering around you, and even though it's dangerous, you wish that you could head outside and sit in the sun. You're a little worried about Vriska. What if someone spotted her and now she's just lying out there, rotting in the sun with an arrow sticking out of her chest? You don't want to think about that. She isn't exactly in any shape to fight.

"We should see if we can find any wood down here." John murmurs, breaking the silence. There are noises of agreement all around, but no one makes any move to get up. You can't believe how… completely hopeless you feel. You're still trying to catch up with what happened outside. That had to have been the Condesce's soldiers, right? You're not surprised that they were stationed here, if she's really trying to conquer every country. That pass would be a good way to launch a surprise attack on Morgona, but people have been passing through there for weeks without incident. And you doubt that your dingy little carriages looked like much to them, so why would they suddenly attack?

You know the answer, you just don't want to admit it. The only possible way that they knew to attack would be because someone had told them that you were coming. But… who? Someone had to have betrayed you, someone close to you. No one outside of your friend group knew that you would be leaving behind Disciple's back. You don't want to think about it, but… is it possible that Feferi…?

No. You refuse to accept that it was her. She's too sweet to double-cross you like this. There has to be some other explanation for it - you're certain.

There's the sound of clothes rustling, and then John stands up, sighing. "Dave. Do you want to go outside to check on Vriska with me?" He asks, bending down to put a hand on your arm. "I should probably take a look at your stomach. If it gets infected over some river water, Terezi will have my head."

You don't think that John even considers the possibility that all of your friends are dead. Still, you let him have his naivety, taking his hand and letting him pull you to your feet. You lean on John, the two of you easing your way back the way you came. You don't know how he can tell where the way out is, but you let him lead you, closing your eyes and trusting your feet to handle the difficult part.

You wait until you can't hear Kanaya or Nepeta anymore before you start talking. Up ahead, you can see a faint glimmer of light. It's easier to see on the way back, versus heading inside. "So," you start, a little awkwardly, "uh, I… I thought that you were mad at me." You say a little hesitantly. You don't want to piss John off after he's just gone back to talking to you, but you need to know why he's suddenly changed his behavior. The last time you talked to him, he seemed pretty intent on not speaking to you ever again.

It takes John a minute to reply. You focus on the light ahead, how it's steadily getting brighter with every slow step the two of you take. "I'm still mad at you." John says finally. "But I'm not going to be petty, Dave. You're still my best friend, and right now, we need each other more than ever. I'm tired of ignoring you, anyway. I just want things to go back to how they were before this all happened."

It takes all of your strength not to hug him. "Yeah." You agree. "Me, too." You really should leave it at that, but… "So you're… not upset that I like guys…?" You question.

John sighs, and you can see him shoot a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. "Dave. I've decided that I literally cannot possibly care less than I already do when it comes to who you want to have sex with behind closed doors. As long as those doors are locked and soundproof and I don't know about it." He lets go of you then, twisting you around to help you maneuver through the sliver in the rock that passes for an entrance.

"That's… good." You say after a moment, waiting on the other side for John to follow. "I don't see Vriska out here - should we head back? What if she got grabbed too?" Even though you aren't too fond of Vriska, you still don't want anything bad to happen to her. She's already lost an arm and one eye. What more does she need to suffer through?

"What? She's not there?" John squeezes out next to you, frowning as he looks around. "Shit. I didn't think they would get down here so quickly." He thinks about his options for a moment, then turns to you and sighs. "First, let's do what we came out here to do. Get your shirt off so I can check on your stab. I told Vriska not to wonder off and she said, quote, "I'll do what I want, John Fuckbert," so I think she'll manage fine on her own. If she still hasn't come back in an hour then, well, we'll go looking for her."

You nod. That seems fair. And you aren't really in the mood to argue. You sit down, propping yourself up against a rock, and lift your shirt up like John told you to. Once upon a time, this probably would have made you blush and stutter, but you're soaking wet and exhausted. You're so tired of this whole mess. John's fingers tracing over your stomach don't do much for you. You just watch him. At the very least, he's much warmer than you. You aren't sure if the urge to hug him is from the desire for warmth, the lingering crush, or both.

He wipes away and picks off some more soaked remains of your bandages, flicking them away. "Alright." John sighs, standing up. He extends his hand to you, and you take it gratefully, covering a wince as you pull yourself to your feet. "You're bleeding a little bit, or you were, anyway, because some areas are freshly scabbed over. But you're fine now, Dave. I don't think you'll be needing to be bandaged again unless you take another blade to the gut."

"Drat." You shake your head. "There goes my whole weekend plan. Thanks a lot, John." You're hoping that some joking can lighten the mood a little. You have nothing else to offer. This is the least you can do.

It manages to get a little smile from John, a small chuckle. And that's more than enough for you. "Sorry, Dave. I just don't want you dying a horrible death." He says with an apologetic shrug.

You arch an eyebrow. "Oh, but a boring death would be fine? What about a quick death? A passionate death? C'mon, John, work with me here. I need to know your limits and standards if we're going to make this work."

This time, you get a louder laugh. Not by much, but it's so refreshing to hear. When was the last time John laughed? "None of the above. Sorry, Dave, but you're just not allowed to die. I know it sucks, but it's the way things have to be. You'll have to become an immortal god. I know, it sucks, but we all have to make sacrifices for the greater good."

You start to argue with him, only to be cut off by the sound of footsteps. You freeze, holding your breath. John shoots you a panicked look, but before either of you can move to reenter the cave, the person approaching is upon you.

"Here." Vriska drops a skinny tree at your feet, huffing as she brushes her hair out of her face. "Fire wood. You're welcome." You and John stare at it. It's not that big, maybe up to your waist and skinnier than your arm is thick, but if you can set it on fire, how big it is won't really matter. You look up at her, raising an eyebrow in question. "What?" Vriska glares at you, annoyed. She makes a move like she wants to cross her arms, only to remember her missing appendage and drop it back at her side with a sigh. "Look, there are little trees growing up and down the bank, alright? There's also plenty of dry shrubs if you need something else for the fire. It wasn't that hard to get a tree." She pulls up her pant leg, showing you where she strapped a small dagger to her ankle, tied tightly with a leather strip. "Unlike the rest of you, I'm not stupid enough to go anywhere without at least a dagger. You would be surprised how much you can do with one."

John picks up the little tree, shifting it under his arm. "Wow." He blinks. "I didn't think I would ever say this, but… thanks, Vriska."

She scoffs, doing this weird head roll that you don't understand, to flip her hair over her shoulder. You start to think that she could just reach up and put it behind her head, but then you pause. Oh, right. Uh, wrong side, you suppose. "Please, John. As pathetic as this little party is, I'm not going to just sit back and let you all freeze to death. Or myself, more importantly. We have bigger thing to worry about than how we're going to dry off." Vriska raises a hand to protect her one good eye from the light of the sun, squinting back up at the ledge of the ravine. "Where do you think they were taken?"

You frown. "Assuming that they weren't just immediately killed?" As much as you dislike the idea, you also can't imagine that whatever is waiting for them with the Condesce can be very pleasant, either. And Karkat… fuck, you know that she's less than pleased with the way he handled his job. You don't even want to think about what he's going to be put through once she gets her hands on him.

Vriska nods, brushing her bangs behind her ear to study you. "Yes." She says after a moment. "Come on, Dave. As a prince, aren't you supposed to study sadism and how to get the most from your enemies? They're more valuable to her alive, because they can lead her to what she really wants. You." She points to you, then shrugs. "And, I mean, based on that sob story Disciple sold us on the first day we got there, she would like to find that base, too. So I don't think that they'll be killed." Vriska's expression darkens. "But there are so many things worse than death."

John looks between the two of you uncomfortably. You feel a little bad that you have to talk about this with him here. You can't imagine that this is helping with his worry for Jade any. But she'll be fine. They'll all be fine, you're sure of it. And John needs to hear this if he's going to be coming with you for the rescue mission.

"Come on." You head back towards the cave open, gingerly rubbing your stomach. "We should talk about our next move with Kanaya and Nepeta." You squeeze inside, feeling your way through the dark to where you remember your two friends being. John carries the tree with him, which makes things a little awkward in the cramped and dark space, but it's not too time consuming.

Before long, you make it back to where you were before. "Nepeta?" John questions into the darkness.

"Over here." She speaks up, and you hear him move over to sit next to her, the tree hitting the ground in front of him.

"Vriska got us this tree." He says, as if it wasn't already obvious. "Do you think you can start a fire in the dark like this?"

There's no response for a moment. You hear Nepeta rustling the leaves, probably feeling the tree. "Yes." She settles on finally. "Just- give me a wide berth. I don't want to set any of you on fire." She shuffles forward to the center of the room, everyone else moving out of her way to press against the walls of the cave. You haven't heard her say this much since Equius… well, it's progress, at any rate. That's what is important.

You settle down next to John, sighing as you lean against the wall. You're exhausted, but you don't want to be the one to speak up and say it. You don't want to sound like you're whining. The last thing you need to do is give Vriska any more reasons to dismiss you as just another self-absorbed noble.

John sighs, shifting next to you and sitting up. "We should probably come up with a new course of action." He says quietly. Other than his voice, the only noise in the room is whatever Nepeta is doing in an attempt to start a fire. You don't know how she'll do it without starting rocks, but you know that she's a huntress, so maybe she knows some tricks from being out in the wild so much. You couldn't even begin to guess. You still have a lot to learn about life away from the conveniences of the castle.

You're surprised when, instead of Vriska, Kanaya is the one who speaks up. "The smartest thing would be to continue with our previous course of action." She mutters. "We cannot very well go back to Disciple like this, and we have no way of knowing where our friends have been taken."

There's the sound of smoldering, Nepeta gently blowing, and the smell of smoke, before the room bursts with light. You wince against the brightness of the small flame, closing your eyes. Nepeta sets the smoldering tree on the far end of the little circular room, scooting over to sit next to Kanaya. For a few moments, you're all silent, watching the fire eat away at the wood. You worry a little about suffocating in your sleep, but you figure that you can put the fire out before it gets that bad.

"We could just cut our losses and go home." Nepeta speaks up, breaking the silence. "I don't know about you all, but… I'm so tired of this. We have no business getting involved in the first place. I," her voice cracks, and she has to pause, "I want to go home."

Kanaya puts her arm around Nepeta's shoulders, and she leans into the taller girl gratefully. You don't think that Nepeta is crying, but she definitely needs some comfort. You're glad that Kanaya is so good at providing it.

"But we can't just leave everyone." John bites his lip, looking down at the ground in front of him. "They're counting on us to save them. If we don't, then who will?"

No one in the room can bring themselves to meet his gaze. The sound of the flickering fire is like the background music to the sickening feeling of hopelessness. You almost wish that Vriska had let you drown. That would hurt less than the crushing realization that you can't do anything. You've been reduced from a future king to a mere young adult. You have nothing. No money, no power, not even something warm to wear. You're pathetic, the feeling crushing, more suffocating than any amount of water.

"Guys, we have to-" John tries to get your spirits up again, only to be cut off.

"We don't have to do anything!" Vriska snaps. "Don't you get it, John? We've  _lost_. We've been bested, beaten, out-smarted. There are so many ways to say how badly we've been fucked over, but you just aren't getting it!"

"I do get it!" John yells back at her, pushing himself away from the wall and away from her. "I get that we lost, alright?" Vriska falls silent, looking at him with an unreadable expression. "We got our asses handed to us, got kicked to the streets, and yeah, it sucks, alright? I know that it sucks and that there's probably nothing I can do about it, but that won't keep me from trying!" He falters for a second, as if unsure, but he just as quickly reaffirms himself, determination in his eyes. "I'm not leaving Jade behind. She would never even think of abandoning me, and you know that Terezi would do anything for you." At the sound of Terezi's name, Vriska has to look away from him.

"Are you sure about that?" She asks quietly. No one replies, so she continues. "I mean, let's face it. She's probably glad to get rid of someone like me. And can you really blame her? All I've ever done is beat her down, when I should be building her back up. I- I'm just worried that she'll… realize how much better she could be doing without me." Vriska admits, no louder than a whisper. "If she was in this situation, she would probably be glad I was gone."

You shake your head. "No, she wouldn't." It's… bittersweet to hear Vriska berate herself like that, but you're drawing the line there. You know Terezi, and how she cares for Vriska. Their relationship isn't perfect, and you've doubted Vriska's genuinity for a while now, but this just cements things for you. They both love each other, dearly, and you aren't letting either of them doubt that. "She told me about how she feels about you. I don't think it's really my place to spill her thoughts on the matter, but you shouldn't doubt that Terezi cares about you. She does, almost beyond reason. She would never leave you to die. I know she wouldn't."

Vriska blinks, surprised. You've never seen her look like that, and it's just as bittersweet as the rest of her behavior. She seems to think about what you said, frowning. After a minute, she opens her mouth as if to reply, but then sighs, and closes it, looking away. "Good to know." She mutters. "Thanks, Dave."

You can't tell if she's being sarcastic or not, but you suppose that it doesn't really matter. The fact that you can't tell is progress. You think? It used to be that everything she said was sarcasm, so this newfound grey area has to be good news. You're choosing to see it like that, anyway. You could really use some good news right about now.

Kanaya clears her throat, wiping at Nepeta's eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. "I… think that we should attempt a rescue." She says after a moment. "We own it to our friends. At least, I think that we do. Nepeta?" Frowning, she turns back to the smaller girl. She reaches to put a hand on Nepeta's shoulder, only for her to turn away, shrugging it off.

"Sure." She agrees quietly, sniffling before taking a deep breath to compose herself. "Let's… let's just do it. We don't really have any better options, do we?"

John manages a small smile, a little shaky, but something tells you that that's the best you're going to get from him right now. "That's the spirit! Or, um, close to it, anyway." He sighs. "For now, let's just… try to catch something to eat from the river. It'll be dark before we can make much progress, and the Condesce's soldiers are probably still looking for us, so let's stay here for the night and try to get somewhere in the morning."

There's a chorus of nods. You all seem to at least agree on the short term, then. It's… better than nothing. "We should head to see the king of Morgona." You add in. "He should recognize me. I think that he's one of the few people that my dad actually told about me being the prince. If I talk to him, I'm sure that I can get him to help us fight back."

Again, you're met with nods. Vriska sighs. "I think it goes without saying that we need all the help we can get."


	31. Fever Dreamless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Cause there's reasons why we fell so far so fast.  
> There's reasons why the pluses never last.  
> Take my own thoughts with a grain of salt,  
> when I tell myself that this is all my fault.

The next morning, spirits are abysmally low. Waking up in a cold, pitch black cave didn't really help matters. Honestly, it's a miracle that none of you got yourselves killed by banging your head on a rock and passing out or cutting yourself on a sharp rock that you couldn't see. The five of you wake up slowly, groggily, unhappily, and pick yourselves up and leave the cave. It's just barely dawn when you step outside, but you have to squint against the relative brightness anyway. Your shades weren't lost in the river (somehow), but they're dented and the lenses are cracked beyond use.

You aren't looking forward to when the sun gets brighter and higher in the sky, but you don't say anything about it, choosing to keep it to yourself. It doesn't really matter. Worrying about a pair of shades is… ridiculous, in the long run, especially when compared to everything else you have to fret over.

Food, for example.

The general agreement in the group is that you're all hungry. You know that there's a town along the river, you're just not… entirely sure where it is, exactly. And you don't have any money to pay for something if you do get to the town in the first place. Nepeta and Vriska both promise to stalk any animal that they see, but the only thing that you think would be in the ravine is small lizards, rodents, or mountain lions or goats. None of which you want to attempt to catch. You can probably steal something once you get into town, and while you don't like the idea of doing so, Vriska assures you that it's the easiest thing in the world. You won't even have to do anything except eat whatever she manages to get her hands on.

So, with nothing more than a loose plan and minimal hope, your little group trudges on, following the river out of the mountains.

Even John can't be bothered to even attempt something cheerful. He stays quiet and glum through the walk, and you're too tired to try cheering him up. You know that he's worried about Jade, and you don't think that there's much you can do short of rescuing her that could cheer him up. And to be honest, you think that the same goes for you. All you want is to see your friends safe again. You just want them to be alive, and you want to apologize for getting them into this mess to begin with. It's all your fault.

You don't know how long you walk for. You just walk until you get tired, and then you stop to break, drinking from the river, before continuing. That quickly becomes routine. Walk, stop to rest or go to the bathroom, and walk some more. It feels like miles, the mountains gradually getting shorter and less numerous the further you go on for. The river widens out, and it begins to bend and curve through the land in wide, sweeping loops.

Still, you all follow it, even as your feet blister and your legs ache and the effort it takes to put one foot in front of the other feels like trying to pull an elephant single-handedly. You honestly aren't sure how you keep going. Out of everyone here, you're the least accustomed to working your body like this. It feels like your lungs are slowly giving up on you, your chest tight as if trying to slowly strangle you. Breathing is a labor, a force of will, and still, you walk. The path in front of you is clear - perfectly endless.

And then you see it.

On the horizon, a dot that gradually grows to a cluster of buildings, then a town, and finally, as you approach, you can see it for the bustling city that it is.

The five of you stop by the river about half a mile from the outskirts of the city. In your initial relief, you almost forget that you're still a wanted man. The bounty on your head is ridiculously high, and even if no one here is sure  _why_ you're wanted, reasonings like that hardly matter with so much money on the line.

"I'm going to see if I can scrounge up some food and some clothes, or maybe even a tent." Vriska says, before walking off, towards the city. You're sure that her current state will get her plenty of misguided pity, and you know that she can handle herself, so you aren't worried.

Nepeta picks up a sharp rock from the bank, dipping it in the water and cleaning the dirt off of it. "It's not much," she sighs, and climbs to her feet, "but I've taken down a deer with less before. I'll go see if I can find any animals for food." She doesn't wait for approval or recognition. Rock in hand, Nepeta stalks off, walking along the river towards an area where the scattered trees and bushes are the thickest.

"I guess I'm on firewood." John smiles, but it's forced and unpleasant. "I'll just… go gather some branches and head back here. Don't wander off while I'm gone guys, okay?" You and Kanaya nod. Because, seriously, where else would you go?

Not that you wouldn't love to go literally anywhere else, because the atmosphere between you and Kanaya is painfully awkward. And that's you being generous, too. You know that she got along pretty well with Rose, but that clearly doesn't translate to you. Kanaya seems more interested in plucking at the grass than having anything to do with you. You wonder if she's just shy, or if she blames you for this whole thing. You really can't blame her either way.

"Dave?" Kanaya speaks up after a moment, your head immediately perking up. Honestly, after today, hearing anything besides the bubbling of the river's water is more than welcome. "Can I ask you something? And receive an honest answer?"

You nod, even though the specifications of an honest answer makes you hesitate. "Of course, Kanaya."

She sighs, looking up at you then. "You were being prepared to be king one day. What do you know about… torture methods?" She asks, hesitant.

You swallow thickly. You were hoping that no one was going to ask you, but it seems like you can't really avoid it any longer. You cough into your first, glancing away for a moment to take a deep breath. "I… I didn't really get too heavy into torture, Kanaya, that's usually for lesser people to handle, and a king wouldn't-"

"Dave." Kanaya cuts in, quieting you with a single, hard glare. You freeze, almost afraid to twitch your finger. You never thought that Kanaya was even capable of looking so… intense. "I asked you not to lie. I would appreciate it if you would be truthful with me."

You rub the back of your neck, letting out a heavy sigh. Yeah. You should have expected her to see through that. "It's…" Images of broken bodies flash in your mind. People torn apart one finger at a time, stretched beyond anything that could be human, scarred and bruised and shattered inside and out. It makes you sick. "Let's just… say that we should hurry to find them. It's… it's never… pretty."

You want to spare Kanaya the details that you had to be subjected to. It's enough to wash away any hope she may or may not have of Rose getting out of this safely. You wish that you could unsee all the ways your sister could be being hurt right now, but it's your burden, so you bare the gory thoughts alone. You'll save her. You'll save them all.

You have to.

Kanaya nods, and leaves it at that, worry creasing her pretty face as you wait in silence for the others to come back. John comes back first, a bundle of tree branches in his arms. Kanaya picks up stones from the bank to make a fire pit, but the sun is still high in the sky, so you see no reason to light it just yet. You make idle conversation with him while you wait, and Kanaya gets mostly to herself, only adding something in when you pull her into the conversation specifically. Nepeta appears on the horizon a few hours after John, sweat-soaked and lugging a doe with her. John runs over to help her carry it, but when it comes time to cut the animal, he politely declines helping. You don't blame him. All that time in the palace's torture chamber didn't help you much when it came to developing a strong stomach. Actually, your stomach is incredibly weak. You hate the sight of blood or anyone in pain.

You let Kanaya and Nepeta cut up the deer, skinning the hide to sell in town. It's not a very neat job, but Nepeta tells you that it doesn't have to be, since most of it is discarded if it's going to be used for shoes or hats or tunics. You decide to believe her. It's not like you know very much about the business of buying and selling animals hides. She pushes the rest of the deer's body into the river, letting the water carry the carcass downstream and away from you. It doesn't take very long for it to sink and flow out of sight, and you can't help but feel relieved.

John spears a cut of the meat on one of his cleaner and pointier sticks, and after Nepeta starts the fire again, he starts cooking it. You know that it's not going to be cooked very well or taste very well, but you don't mind. Food is food, and you're salivating just at the sight of the meat cooking.

He cooks four hunks of the stuff, and you don't do the nicest job keeping yourself clean when you eat, but you couldn't care less. You get the juices over the front of your shirt, and your hands feel dirty and unpleasant after having to hold it the whole time. Your jaw aches from all that chewing (deer meat is apparently pretty tough), but you're full, and your worries of starvation are put off for another day. You clean yourself in the river, worrying about something else now as you look around.

"Do you guys think we should go find Vriska?" You ask, looking towards the town. She's been gone for a while now, and you're worried that she got caught stealing and is serving hard time or, worse, got run through with a sword by one of the guards. "I'm worried. She left a while ago."

John shrugs, finishing off his cut of deer and grimacing a little bit. "I think she'll be fine." He says after a moment. "At least give her until sundown? She left with a pretty long list of shit that we need, so I don't blame her for taking a while."

Nepeta nods her agreement, adding another stick to keep the fire going. "I agree. Things have been... stressful recently, Dave. Just give her some time to work off steam and do her own thing."

You aren't convinced, but you nod anyway, at least so that they don't worry too much about you. Worrying is your job. You don't need to burden your friends with anything more than they have to take care of.

You keep the fire going until the sun sinks below the horizon. Then, Nepeta suggests just letting it smolder out while you all sleep. Vriska still isn't back yet, but again, your worries are dismissed. This time, you take a little bit of issue with it, but you suppose that you can't very well go look for her alone, so you don't argue for too long.

You all sort of sleep in a little pile, huddled together for warmth and something a little bit more comfortable than the ground. It's a struggle to get to sleep, and you stare up at the night sky until you physically cannot hold your eyes open any longer. Only then can you bring yourself to close them, and once you do, it's a matter of seconds before you're sleeping.

You're jarred awake seemingly seconds later when someone drops something big and heavy onto your stomach.

You shoot up into a sitting position, letting out this pathetic little wheeze as you struggle to regain the breath just forced from your lungs. Your eyes blink open, and you look up in surprise. "Vriska?" You question, having to cough. Yeah, talking isn't really helping you breathe again.

Luckily, everyone else is waking up, too, so you won't have to be the only one talking. John stirs next to you, reaching for his glasses. You had asked him how he managed to keep them from breaking during the jump or getting lost in the current, and John had told you that, after years of breaking his glasses, he had mastered how to prevent losing them. Meaning, he just took them off before he jumped and clung to them tightly. You wish that you had thought of that. Then again, when you jumped, you weren't doing very well emotionally.

Or, um, something like that.

John shakes Nepeta awake next to him, and by the time she opens her eyes, Kanaya is already up and joining you in amazement as you look over everything that Vriska brought. She actually has a carriage and a horse, which appears to be dozing in its's reigns. You aren't surprised - based on the moon, it's nearly three in the morning.

Vriska yawns, and you open the sack she dropped on you to root through everything. "What's all of this?" You ask, pulling out a robe that feels like silk. The bag feels really heavy… how much stuff does she have in here?

"Oh, not much." Vriska shrugs, passing the second bag over her shoulder to John. "That bag is food. The one that Dave has is filled mostly with clothes, weapons, and the money that I had leftover after getting everything else."

She runs a hand through her hair, smoothing some of the tangles out, while you all stare on with your mouths agape. You have seen some truly spectacular things in your lifetime. You've seen the court jester perform tricks that should have him getting burned at the stake for practicing witchcraft. You've been in the middle of the rebellion for about a month or two now, and have somehow managed to keep from getting yourself killed. You've experienced complete and utter adoration for people and the smallest things that they do. And you've seen the way the rising sun looks, broken over a mountain peak, and the way the river glistens at twilight. You have seen things that make you truly appreciate life, and the fact that you are alive right now, and able to reflect upon and appreciate these things.

You have not seen anything that had suitably prepared you for the shock you feel witnessing the mounds of shit that Vriska brought you.

"How?" You get out finally, reaching deeper into the bag to pull out fine boots, roughskin tunics, and blankets, and- fuck, is that an actual  _pillow_? You've missed sleeping comfortably in more ways than you can describe. "How did you  _get_ all of this stuff?"

Rolling her eyes, Vriska scoffs. Again, she makes a motion like she wants to cross her arms, only to groan and stamp her foot in aggravation. "You ask as if it was hard." She sighs. "My dad died when I was seven in a fire that destroyed everything I owed. I met Terezi when I was eleven, and by then, I already had a mildly successful fortune teller business going. Can any of you take a wild guess as to how that happened?" She raises an eyebrow, waiting.

You share a look with John, and he shrugs. "I would guess," Kanaya begins slowly, "that you earned it however you could, or if there were no opportunities for honesty, you stole."

Nodding, Vriska smiles sarcastically. "Very good! At least one of you isn't completely naive and blind to the reality of the world." She gives John a pointed look, and he shrugs nervously. You remember what Terezi told you about Vriska wanting to "fix him," in her fucked up way of helping. You wonder if she's going to try doing that now that Terezi isn't here anymore. You really hope not - now is not the time for her to stir up romantic tension. "Anyway," she sighs, continuing, "Kanaya is right. To be fair, I did buy most of this shit, but as for how I got said money, well… I managed to scrape together a small fortune teller stand, and once word got around the market place that I was quote-unquote "legit" people flocked to me on their own." She laughs. "Everything that I sold them was complete bullshit, of course, but you should have seen the way that they ate it up! Anyway, after that, some men took "pity" on the fragile looking girl with only one arm and one eye. Obviously they wanted cheap sex, but what they ended up getting was completely robbed. Yep! I stripped them of every last coin. Not that it was hard - the lot of them let their fat coin sacks hang out of their pockets to show off, just about begging someone to… relieve them of the weight." She grins, her teeth gleaming sharp and nearly predatory in the moonlight as she twists a strand of hair around her finger. "I'm sure they'll be fine. And if not, who care? Look at all this cool stuff I got!" She states triumphantly, gesturing at the sacks of belongings and the carriage behind her. "That horse is a lazy sack of shit, but he pulls the carriage and doesn't bitch about it like John would if I made him pull it, so it's better than nothing."

John looks offended, and you snicker into your hand, biting back full-blown laughter. You can't help it - you really could use some stress relief after the day you've all had, and Vriska's innocent smile as John turns red with embarrassment and anger is the most entertaining thing you've had all day.

Reaching into the bag John is holding in his hands, Nepeta feels around for a moment before pulling out what looks like a loaf of bread. "You wouldn't happen to have fuel for a fire, would you?" She asks around a mouthful of carbs, taking another bite before she can even swallow. You frown a little bit - even though you don't much like the royal life, you certainly would like it if people could use proper table manners. Or, at least chew with their mouths shut. But that's just a pet peeve you have, as much as it can bug you.

"Of course I do." Vriska says with a shrug. "I'm very thorough. I also have rope in the weapon's bag - for hostage holding or scaling a wall. It depends on what we need to do to rescue everyone. "

Frowning, John passes off the bag he's holding to Nepeta (who then proceeds to pass a loaf of bread to Kanaya and take another for herself). He reaches into yours instead, pulling out the rope that was coiled at the very bottom. "Um… we're not going to kill anyone, are we?" He asks, pulling out a sheathed dagger next. It's pretty cool, actually, and comes with a little slip to attach to the hem of your pants. You take it from John, ignoring his raised eyebrow to attach it to your hip. You aren't exactly thrilled about the possibility of killing someone, but for your friends? Well, you'll manage.

"No, of course not!" Vriska responds sarcastically. "We'll just march right on up to where they're being held, shake hands with the guards, tell them our tale of woe, and be allowed right in to leave with our friends!" John starts to say something, only for Vriska to cut him off. "And, no, I'm not being serious!" He purses his lips, but doesn't say anything, giving a sigh and settling down. "Of course we'll have to kill someone, John! They won't let us just waltz right on in through the front door! And I know that you've had a pure and sheltered childhood, but that isn't the way the real world works! I mean, I killed three people on my way back here!"

Hearing that, John's head snaps up, his eyes wide behind his glasses. "You did  _what_?" He shouts.

"I'm kidding!" Vriska blurts out, just barely holding back laughter. "Oh my God, John, you're so gullible! In any other situation, I might even find that cute," she punctuates this with a wink, to which John merely raises an eyebrow, "but not in this situation. Something like that is only going to get you killed in the real world." She puts her hand on her hip, which you think is her way of crossing her arms now. "And believe it or not, but I don't want to see you getting killed." John doesn't really look like he believes that, but he nods.

With a sigh, he runs a hand through his hair, taking his glasses off and setting them on the ground next to him. "Well… um, great. Same with you, Vriska. Can we just get some sleep for now? We can talk about my shortcomings as a ruthless cutthroat in the morning." He stretches, muffling a yawn. "But I think that it's best we get some sleep."

You nod your agreement, scooting over to John and opening your arms like you're going in for a hug. "Here - for, um, warmth and security and shit." It's a test, and you think that John can tell based on the look he gives you. He hesitates. He must be trying to figure out who you're testing, him or yourself, but after a moment, he gives up.

"Yeah, alright." John murmurs, scooting over into your hug. You lay down with him in your arms, and John shifts to be facing away from you.

There. You did it.

You, Dave Strider, are spooning the crush who wants nothing to do with your weird feelings.

And it doesn't feel right at all.

* * *

"Oy, Dave!" Vriska barks, and you turn to look at her just in time to fumble and catch what she tossed at you. You stumble, trying to secure your grip on the object, and manage after another second of struggling. "A git." She shrugs, and you open the little leather pouch she gave you to pull out a pair of shades. They're not as nice as your old ones - they're actually of pretty poor quality, but you slip them on and sag with relief all the same.

"Thanks!" You call back to her, picking up the bag of food at your feed and carefully putting it in the back of the wagon. It only took about five minutes to get everything ready to leave. Based on the sun's position in the sky, you would guess that it's around eight o'clock. At this rate, your little group is going to reach the Morgona capital by nightfall. Maybe sooner, depending on how fast the horse can go. At least this carriage ride won't be suffocatingly tense, you think, and then immediately reprimand yourself for making light of the situation. Awkward relationships or not, you would do just about anything to have your friends back.

Vriska claps you on the shoulder, making you jump. "You don't need to thank me." She says, though the tone she uses implies that she would be more than happy if you were to continue thanking her and showering her with compliments. "You're a prince, and those red eyes of yours are a dead giveaway of your lineage. Anyone who's met your dad would recognize those." She grins.

You start to agree, and then stop yourself, frowning. "Well, yeah, but… how do you know that? Have you met my dad or something?"

Reaching into her pocket, Vriska shakes her head. She pulls out a folded sheet of paper, holding it up for you to see. "No, it says so on the bounty poster." Underneath a surprisingly accurate sketch of yourself, there's a small paragraph of text. You don't expect most people to be able to read it. The penmanship is incredibly flowery, like something that's more for visual appeal than actual reading. You have to focus to actually read it, and the gist of it is exactly what Vriska just told you. Dave Strider, prince of Derse, blah blah blah, blond hair, red eyes similar to his father's, blah blah blah…

"You can actually read this?" You ask, taking the sheet and looking over it some more. The price on your head is one million gold, which honestly blows you away. That's a hell of a lot of money. It's also a kind of a waste, considering that the Condesce only wants you in order to kill you slowly and painfully after shoving her victory in your face. Then again, you suppose that there's nothing on the parchment stating that she won't just kill whoever turns you in so that she doesn't have to fork over any gold.

"Of course I can read it." Vriska rolls her eyes, flicking her hair behind her shoulder. "I'm not like your bread-loving boy toy, Dave. I lived on the streets, sure, but my mom was actually a very successful author. She made sure that I could read backward and forward and upside down and with one eye." She smiles dryly. "Which turned out to be very helpful."

You decide to dodge a bullet and not reply to that.

Instead, you get into the carriage. Vriska is going to lead the way, and John is going to drive. Apparently, driving with just one arm isn't very easy. Or so you have been told. Anyway, she gives him a basic rundown of what he needs to do and how he needs to do it, and then you're off.

The clothes that Vriska "legally" acquired last night turn out to be a huge help. You put on the fine clothes, a silk robe and clothes lined with fur. She even got you a few rings to wear in order to help complete the look, and fur boots. They are pretty comfortable, and very nice clothes. You let Kanaya fix your hair in the carriage ride - she cuts it with one of the smaller daggers that Vriska managed to get her hands on, layering your hair carefully until she deems you "princely" enough for an audience with the king of a country. You can't see yourself without a mirror, but you take her word for it. Nepeta agrees, so you suppose that they can't both be  _completely_ wrong, right? Right.

The ride to the capital is incredibly uneventful, but also so nerve-wracking that by the time Vriska announces that you've arrived at the capital city, you feel on the edge of hyperventilating, your vision going black at the edges.

You're running through protocol and formalities in your head, struggling to remember those boring lessons you had to sit through when you were fourteen. You're not even supposed to arrive without having sent a notice ahead of time. You haven't even seen the king yet, but you're already breaking rules.  _Fuck_. What are you even thinking? Someone like you has no business doing something this insane. You should just be sitting on your throne like the good little puppet you're suppose to be, letting someone smarter and more capable than you pull the strings and jerk you around and give commands.

You aren't ready for something like  _this_.

But what choice do you have? If you don't do this, you'll never get the help that you need. The Condesce will keep growing her army and increasing her power and wealth. She'll topple country after country, and Feferi, Eridan, Sollux, Jade, Rose, Terezi… you'll never see any of them ever again.

And Karkat…

He's probably already dead, as much as you want to banish the thought from your subconscious all together. But even if you cross the world just to end up clutching his lifeless corpse, you need to see him. You need to find all of them, just to make sure that they're okay.

"Dave?" John reaches through the open carriage door to put a hand on your shoulder, effectively jerking you from your thoughts. "Um, we're here." He states, looking concerned. "Are you ready to see the king?"

That's a good question.

You look around you, staring up at the sprawling castle. It's smaller than yours, but no less impressive, the white stone polished until it practically glimmers in the light. You think about what lies behind those towering walls, behind the guards armed to the teeth. This castle holds a king, and he holds the power to help you, and to get your friends back alive and healthy. You can't do it alone - to even attempt would just be absurd. You take a deep breath, easing the knots in your stomach and gradually slowing your pounding heart.

You clench your teeth against a fresh wave of terror, and nod once. "I'm ready."


	32. It Took Me By Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would react badly to the slightest hint of hesitance.  
> He bent awkwardly to suit my mood, no word from his defense.  
> I cried, knowing how my tears felt like acid burning through his skin.   
> Pushed every little button but the right one that would let me in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys, I'm almost done writing this fic! At the current moment, I'm thinking that there's going to be six more chapters after this one, including an intermission. I might add a bonus epilogue, if anyone is interested in that?
> 
> This fic has been a blast to write, and I want to say thank you to all of the readers who have been there since the first chapter! I know that I almost never reply to comments, but I read them all, and they motivate me to keep writing. So, thank you to all the lovely reviews I've received in the year it's taken to write this "short" fic, and I hope to get better at talking with my readers in the future 3 (Just let me get past my social anxiety first, haha.)
> 
> Next on the agenda, I'm going to binge watch all of Camp Camp, write anywhere between 2 and 10 fics for it, obsess over it for a month, and then promptly and suddenly drop it and deny having ever even heard of it.
> 
> So, look forward to that, and more DaveKat!

You, uh… you had expected this whole thing to be a lot harder than it actually was if you're being honest.

You arrived at this castle five minutes ago, and you're already being ushered inside by the king, his arm around your shoulders as he babbles on about your father and what a good friend he was, and how truly sorry he is for your loss.

None of this is what you were expecting, at all.

The king doesn't question you, and the guards don't, either. You just told them who you were, and they alerted the king of your arrival without saying a word to you. Unless you're mistaken, the Condesce's story is that you were kidnapped by the same "terrorist group" that killed your parents, so… the king should be curious, shouldn't he? He should be pestering you with questions and pressing for details, but none of those things happen. He doesn't even question the people with you, your "entourage" hurrying to keep up with you as you're led through the Great Hall and deeper into the castle.

The king is a short, fat man that makes you really appreciate how well your father aged. His hair is thinning and going white at the roots, either because of his age, or the stress of being king, or both. You can't really tell how old he is - he has a face that makes it look like he could be anywhere from thirty to seventy, and it's incredibly off-putting. Most of his body is lost, hidden behind the mounds and mounds of rich fur he's wearing. You know that Morgona is colder than Derse, but this is a little ridiculous. He seems like the kind of man that likes to flaunt his wealth, wearing a crown with so many jewels that you can't tell what color the actual crown is for a moment. Every single one of his fingers has been stuffed into a jeweled ring, and when he laughs, his numerous golden necklaces jingle and clang together. It's… almost disgusting, but you know better than to let that show on your face. You remember the years and years your father spent drilling social etiquette into your head, and you relax, smiling in a way that almost looks earnest.

"...was such a good and thoughtful friend." The king is saying, and you struggle to remember his name. His first name, you can't remember, but his last- um, shit. You think that it was something like Eastaughffe? Eastoft? Easton? Um, okay, you're going to have to guess. "Why, I remember the first time your father mentioned you to me! It was many, many years ago - I didn't even believe him at first!" The king laughs. "Dirk was not a man known for lying though, and looking at your eyes was all the proof that I needed! No one not related directly to the king could have eyes so striking as yours, my dear boy!"

God, does he ever shut up? You clear your throat when he stops to take a breath. "Um, yes, thank you, King Emsworth, that's very flattering, but-"

"Darby." The king cuts you off, and you blink, a frown creasing your face with confusion. "Call me Darby, David - there's no need for formal titles between friends!" He chortles.

"Um, actually… Darby." His name feels so awkward to say, but you force it out anyway. "My name isn't David, it's just Dave."

"Hm? Oh, yes, yes, of course, David…" The king… er, Darby, you suppose, dismisses your statement with a wave of his hand, seeming to be thinking about something. "Terribly sorry - I wasn't expecting you, you see! I need to find a room for you to stay immediately."

He leads you past the dining hall, and past the throne room to a flight of stone stairs that spiral up into the North tower, going up so high that you can't see the landing. "Can my… servants stay with me?" You ask, resisting his pressing hold on your shoulders to gesture to your friends behind you. They must be quite the sight, filthy and busted and broken, but you don't want to go anywhere with this stranger alone - king or no king.

"Servants?" Darby turns to look at them, surprised. Did he not notice them before? "Oh, your servants! Of course, of course - they will be right at home in the servant quarters. I'll tell my staff to show them nothing but the best hospitality!" He beams at you, and you feel your stomach tie itself in painful knots. You don't want to separate from your friends at all. But before you can voice your protests, Darby claps his hands twice and, almost as if they just slipped out of the wall, two pretty maids are immediately by his side.

"Highness?" They ask in unison, dropping into deep curtseys. "How may we serve you?" There's something eerie about them both. They're practically the same person - one of them has brown hair, and the other is blonde, but that's about where the differences end. It's unnatural, and you don't like it one little bit.

The king points to your friends, and if he makes a little sniff of disdain, you do your best to pretend that you didn't hear it. "Please escort the young king's servants to the bottom west wing. Give them nothing but the best hospitality."

The two girls nod. "Nothing but the best." They echo. They start walking, back the way you came, and very,  _very_ hesitantly, your friends follow.

Over his shoulder, John shoots you a worried frown. You smile back, trying to be reassuring. You're sure that this separation thing won't last long - just until you're all settled in. Thinking of that is what gives you the strength to climb the stairs, the king prattling on about your father behind you, all the way to the top.

At the top of the tower, there is only one door, leading into one room, with one single bathroom branching off of it, and absolutely no other way out. It does have a balcony, but one look over the edge tells you that a fall off would shatter your spine, if it doesn't kill you on impact, anyway.

The room isn't a prison of any kind. It's just as lavish as the king hinted at, with fine drapes over the windows, and bed covers made of unicorn fur (at least, that's what they feel like to you). You didn't realize how much you really missed soft beds, and you only have to squeeze the mattress once before you're in love. Rather than hay, the mattress is stuffed with soft feathers, and you want to collapse onto it and not wake up for a week. But, first things first, you did come here for something other than to sleep.

"I trust that the room is to your liking?" Darby asks from behind you, smug. He knows that your answer is "yes," of course. The carpet is made of soft velvet, and the walls are covered in felt so that you can't see the cold stone beneath it. There's not a fireplace, but you doubt that you are going to need one. Everything is either red, purple, or gold - only the most expensive dyes, too. The bed frame is made of wood so dark and smooth that it almost looks like black porcelain, and so does the dresser and the vanity mirror. The room itself is rather sparse, but the price tags on everything certainly make up for that. The landscape paintings on the wall look practically real. You wonder where he gets the money to pay for furnishings like this for every room of his castle. Things like these aren't cheap.

"It's… very nice." You say, turning to him. "But can I ask-"

"I apologize for having to stick you all the way up here, highness." Darby interrupts, looking around the fine room with pride. "This is the only room that I have available for slumbering in on such short notice. Rest assured, the next time I see you, I will have a much more conveniently located room for you to stay in." He chuckles.

You nod - as if you're going to be coming back here if you can help it. "Can I talk about what I came here for?" You press. "See, my friends have been captured by a ruthless tyrant, and I need reinforcements if I'm going to save them." You try to convey your urgency in your tone.

But it must not work, because Darby bursts out laughing. "Oh, the creativity of the youth! Rest assured, highness, we will talk at length about your proposal in the morning. And more seriously, I hope?" He chuckles, but there's something dark in his tone that you don't like. Maybe coming here was a mistake.

"In the  _morning_?" You shoot a glance out the window. It's barely four o'clock! He should have plenty of time before dinner, let alone actually retiring to his bed. "But I can't-"

"Yes, I'm afraid that an old man like me needs all the rest he can scrape up." Darby sighs, patting his fat stomach. He turns his back to you, walking over to the door. "I'll have dinner brought to you when it's ready, prince- I mean- your highness." He smiles in a way that sends chills up your spine, and then he's gone, the door shut behind him.

You hear the lock click, and wait until you can't pick up his descending footsteps anymore before you walk over and tug on the door handle. Locked. Of course. You sigh, walking over to the balcony and leaning against it, looking out over the courtyard. You're back in a castle, where you belong, and it feels like just as much of a prison as it used to.

They never do end up bringing you dinner.

* * *

You don't let yourself sleep, keyed up and on edge. If you hadn't been locked in, then you wouldn't be nearly so paranoid, but the facts are, you've been brought into a stranger's home and locked in a room against your will. No one will know that you're here, if that's what the king wants. One word from him and the guards will have never even heard of a "prince Dave," let alone actually seen once enter the castle. You don't know what he could be doing to your friends right about now. Are they as trapped as you are?

Midnight comes and goes without fanfare, your eyelids sagging. By now, you've started trying to convince yourself to go to sleep. The bed is so soft, too soft… You force yourself to stand and go out onto the balcony instead, sitting in the frigid air with the wind blowing on you. It helps you keep your eyes open, but it doesn't make you any less tired. Just for a few moments, maybe? Surely, a few minutes couldn't do any harm…

You let your eyes close, only to immediately open them. You hear… footsteps? At this hour?

And suddenly, you're wide awake. False alarm or not, you don't want to take any chances. You swing a leg over the side of the balcony, doing your best to ignore the ground and the way your stomach aches in protest as you carefully lower yourself down. Your feet scramble for a placeholder on the smooth, rounded underside of the balcony, but find nothing. Your heart leaps up into your throat, and you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. This is it. There's absolutely nothing between you and the ground - nothing there to keep you safe when your grip undoubtedly fails. You had a good run, though. Made some friends, fell in love… Yeah. You're happy with your life. You can accept this.

The feeling of your foot looping through a vine reminds you that you are absolutely  _not_ okay with this.

You let out a quiet cheer, grabbing handfuls of the vines snaking up the side of the tower and gripping to them so tight that your knuckles go numb. You manage to lower yourself out of sight just in time for the door to your quarters to be slammed open.

"Where is he?" A female voice shrieks, and you wouldn't be able to hear her over the wind if she wasn't on the verge of what appeared to be a mental breakdown. "You  _said_ that he would be here! Why - if we can't find him before  _she_ loses her patience, she'll skin us both alive!"

"I- I-!" You hear Darby stuttering, and you can picture him sweating bucketloads as he fiddles with his rings nervously. "I- I'm n-not certain! I distinctly recall placing the prince in this room! There are no other exits, not even a single secret passage for him to exploit!" He insists.

The female snarls. "Well, then you had… hope… find him… or…" You can't make out every word that she says, no matter how much you strain to listen. She's quieter now, and the wind picks up her words and carries them out of hearing range effortlessly.

Still, whatever she says must get the point across, because Darby squeaks. "Y- Y- Yes ma'a-am!" He shouts. "Consider… already d-done! I'll have the… stripped bare until we f-find him!"

"Good." The woman says smugly, a hiss in her words. "And… you don't… what will happen to… right?"

There's a moment of silence from them both, and then your door is shut with a dull thud. You sigh in relief, carefully climbing your way back up onto the balcony. You probably just split your stomach with that little maneuver, but that's better than being captured and dragged off to the Condesce. You can't believe that one of your father's longest friends would betray you like this. You should have known better than to trust him!

You take a moment to calm yourself, rubbing your fingers together to work blood back into your stiff and frozen joints. Now isn't the time to be angry. Now, you just need to avoid the guards and get to your friends, so that you can all leave safely and undetected. Easy.

Right…

Well, you're not going to get it done standing here in your room, anyway. You wish that you had less fine clothes. In robes as rich as these, you'll be easily distinguished as a nobleman on sight. But beggars can't be choosers.

You ease open your door, holding your breath. You tilt your head to the side, listening for voices or footsteps. You hear neither, so you ease forward, stopping every few steps to listen. It's a horrible ineffective method of travel, but caution is the key here. You think that they've written this tower off as a place you can hide in because no one is here. Occasionally, you do hear echoing voices shouting out orders, but they fade before you can figure out where they're coming from.

In this way, you eventually reach the bottom of the tower. You stand just out of sight of passersby, trying to calm your pounding heart. You're shaky and nervous, and you have no idea where you're going to go. You don't know where your friends are, and you don't know how you're going to get out of this castle. They must have guards at every entrance, looking for you. You swallow thickly, closing your eyes and trying to steady yourself. It's hopeless, you know that it is, but if you're going to go down, you want to go down fighting.

"Hey!" A hand clamps down on your shoulder, and you barely manage to bite back a shout. You're not sure how someone got behind you, but you turn with your fists up anyway. You don't have a weapon, but you do know basic hand-to-hand combat. You need to, for the number of drunken brawls a king can get into. Your father told you that it's always good to know how to fight, and you believed him. You still do, and you take a swing at your attacker, slamming your fist into his jaw before he can do the same to you.

He stumbles back and curses. "Dave, it's me!" He hisses, and you freeze. "Shit, remind me not to sneak up on you ever again." John rubs his jaw tenderly, wincing from the pain. "Um… nice uppercut?"

"John?" You blink. "John! Holy shit, I'm so sorry." You try to hold his jaw up to inspect the damage, but John just waves you away, shaking his head.

"Later." He promises. "Right now, we have more important things to worry about that a stupid bruise." He takes your hand, tugging you away from the door and behind the stairs. There, another door has been embedded in the stone. It's much smaller than the main door, so low that you have to bend over to get through it. John leads you in, dropping your hand once he's sure you get the idea. The hall is so narrow that you have doubts about walking forward instead of sideways, but you only hesitant for a moment before following John in. "Shut the door." He whispers in the darkness, and you do as you're told, shutting it behind you.

Immediately, the room is engulfed by shadow, plunging it into absolute blackness. It's even darker than the cave you spent the night in on the way here. You stumble forward, latching onto the back of John's shirt.

"John." You hiss. "This is you, isn't it?" You give a little tug on his shirt. You hate to be clinging to someone in the dark like a frightened child, but you have no idea where he's leading you. You're not even sure how he found this stupid service tunnel. The absence of light doesn't instill fear, just a growing dread of the unknown, and you want to get out of here as fast as possible.

You feel John reach back to latch onto your wrist, giving a nod. "Yeah." He mutters. "It's me. Come on, the door is directly up ahead and we don't have a lot of time."

Walking forward is slow going, but you manage. It's just you, John, and the sounds of footsteps and heavy breathing. The air in this space is tight and thin, though you could just be imagining things. It's taking a lot of effort not to hyperventilate. You've convinced yourself that the walls are getting closer and tighter, pressing in on you and crushing you. Is this hallway never-ending?

Finally, John stops. You almost run into him, stopping yourself just short of crashing against him. He feels around in front of you both, and you hear that sound of his skin dragging along wood before there's the unmistakable clink of a metal handle and the exit swings wide open in front of you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, easing them open slowly to give your eyes time to adjust to the sudden light. You don't get a lot of time to stop and breathe, because John is suddenly tugging you forward, his steps hurried. You let him string you along, looking around to get a sense of where you are. Uh… stoves, counters, ingredients already set out for the next day's meal… you're in the kitchen! Wow, how far does that passage go?

"John." You try to tug your hand free, but he holds fast. "John, where are we going? How did you find that passage and learn where it lets out?"

For every question you ask, John shakes his head. "No time for that." He leads you out of the kitchen, checking the hall before darting across into the room directly in front of you.

This room is a bedroom. Or, something similar to it. There aren't any beds, but there is piles of animal skins on the floor atop dirty mounds of hay. You grimace at the poor conditions, looking around. "What?" You blink. "Why are we  _here_?" There are no other doors or paths off of this room. Essentially, you're sitting ducks. Trapped.

John opens his mouth to answer, but doesn't get the chance. "You're here to escape." A girl speaks up from the open doorway behind you, stepping in around you and John and shutting the door with a soft click. It takes a moment to recognize her.

"But- you're the servant from earlier!" You point a finger at her in accusation, gawking. She's the brunette, looking a lot less brainless without her blonde friend stuck to her side.

She smiles dryly. "Yes, I am. Very… notable of you, Highness." She inclines her head like she just paid you a compliment, and before you can interject, John speaks up.

"Dave, this is Jolie." He gestures to her. "She's going to be helping us get out. She's the one that told me about that passage from the kitchen, and since this is the room she beds in, we should be mostly left alone. At least for now."

Jolie nods, looking between the two of you. "The passage is never used." She laminates. "It was supposed to be a sort of service path in the original design of the castle, for servants to use to stay out of sight of visiting noblemen. But the lead architect died halfway through the castle's completion, and the replacement scraped the idea. What we got was a hallway that no one bothered to seal up." She offers a shrug.

"Uh huh." You roll your eyes. "That's great and all, but what does that have to do with how we're going to be getting out of the castle? Or why you're even bothering to help us in the first place?"

At the question of her motives, Jolie sighs, biting her lip and looking away. "Because," she murmurs, "I hate this place. Me and Vin are childhood friends, see? And I... I always wanted better for the two of us. I wanted to start a shop. But her mother got sick, and we settled until we could nurse her back to health. Now, we're... we're stuck. We had to sign up to work here, almost like an indentured servant, only we get paid, and we don't get to leave until the document expires in another ten years. If the king loses you, the Condesce'll run him into the ground. She's given him a lot of money for his cooperation, you know. He talks about what a steal it is - when he's been drinking." Jolie turns a faint red. You choose not to ask what else he does when he's drunk.

You raise an eyebrow. You're a little bit suspicious, okay? Just earlier, these two girls were carbon-copies of each other, and now you're supposed to believe this one has a personality and is actually trying to  _help_ you? "So, how did you know we needed help?" You ask.

"John told me." She points to your best friend, and he very pointedly ignores your gaze. "I- I came to check on them for dinner and all of them except for him had left the room. He wanted my help tracking everyone down, and... the details just kind of came from there."

You think about it for a moment. Well, you, uh… you suppose that you can trust her, then. At least, for now. John seems just as uncertain as you, but what other choice do you have? She got you this far. "Okay." You clear your throat. "Where are my other friends? Did you manage to find them?"

Jolie opens the door, looking out and checking for signs of anyone. "I had them move somewhere else." She whispers. "A big reunion would be too loud for this, and the girl with one eye wanted to "acquire" a guard uniform to use, so I put them in a supply closet just down the hall before they could cause a ruckus. Follow me." She darts out, and you and John hurry after her. To you, this all seems very convenient, but Jolie seems like she means well enough.

She stops at the end of the hall, peering around the corner before she gestures for you to follow. "This closet right here." She points to it. "Hurry open and get this reunion over with - we have to get out of here as fast as possible."

You nod, signaling for John to stick with you as you move around her to the closet door. You try to turn the doorknob, but it's stuck. You frown, and try harder, and it pops open with a click that seems far too loud to you. You hold your breath, nervously looking around and then easing it open. "Hey, are you guys-" You start to ask if they're okay, only to cut yourself off. " _What_?" You push the door open all the way, but that doesn't change what you're seeing. "But there's  _nothing_  here-!" You pitch forward, the back of your head stinging from the wicked blow that was just slammed into your skull.

You take a knee, rubbing the back of your head. Your fingers come away red and sticky, your vision hazy, but you don't care. You stand anyway, blinking hard as you turn back around. Jolie has a dagger in one hand, the other wrapped around John's waist. The bloodied club on the floor tells you where that hit came from. "If it means anything, I'm sorry." She says, even as she digs the dagger into John's neck hard enough to draw a thin strip of blood. "We all have a job to do. The king said I could get mine and Vin's contract erased early if I did this for him. It isn't personal. Why don't you just turn around and start walking, Dave? I don't want to have to hurt your friend."

You clench your teeth, ignoring John's continual mouthing of the word "no" to nod your head. "Fine." You manage, turning your back to her. "Where am I going?"

"Just go forward." Jolie tells you, and you hear her walking up behind you. "Careful, now. I know your head must hurt after a hit like that. Take it easy."

You roll your eyes, but bite back a smart remark. You don't want to tempt her into hurting John. You keep your hands up by your side, sighing quietly. Well, it looks like now you have no escape. She's already taken your friends, and now she's going to turn you over to the king. You're going to be face to face with the woman who killed your parents.

And the worst part is, you can't even be mad at Jolie. Truth be told, you should have seen this coming. You knew that it was suspicious, but desperation led you to accept her offer anyway. Stupid. You're an idiot to have trusted her on such shrill evidence.

You just want everyone to be safe.

Based on the way castles are generally built, you guess that you're going to the throne room. Those are usually the center of the castle, the most important part, and it isn't surprising to you at all that the Condesce would want to wait there. It's the only room that could fit her need for power.

"So," you start, holding your breath for a moment in case she decides to cut you off, "where is everyone else, then?"

There's no response for a second. You think that Jolie is trying not to talk to you too much. It makes you seem less like a person if she doesn't know anything about you. Finally, she sighs. "I double-crossed them after John went down that passage to get you. Bound and gagged and handed over to one of the Condesce's men. If you're asking if they're dead or alive, I can't say. What they do with prisoners is none of my business. Turn left here."

You nod, swallowing the dread in your throat as you turn the corner. You come to a hard stop, and hear John whimper behind you. Jolie probably dug the knife in harder with surprise when you stopped, and you clench your jaw, fighting to appear impassive towards the knowledge that John is hurt and you can't do anything about it.

The reason that you stopped is looking down at you with disdain. It's a guard, decked out in full-body, iron armor. You don't see any sign of rank, so this must just be a foot soldier. There's a fuchsia sash around his shoulder, with a silver crest pinned to it. It looks like the astrological sign for Pisces, with two fish encircling it. You remember seeing it before, when you were eight and your father held the crests of different houses up and you had to list them off from memory. If you got one wrong, you got smacked on the knuckles with a cane. But if you got it right, your father would give you a small piece of hard sugar to suck on. You always got this one right, because it was so iconic and nothing at all like the crests other noble families bore. It's been over ten years since those lessons, but you still recognize it immediately. "Pisces." You murmur.

You can't see anything of the guard except for one blue eye that peers down at you with indifference, the other hidden underneath his hair. He looks from you, to John, and to Jolie. "You." He points to her, and she stiffens up. "You just delivered prisoners to us - what use are two more? Can't you kill a few troublemakers yourself?" The dismissive way that he speaks of your life makes you uneasy. You know that the Condesce wants you dead, but something about this man's gruff voice and the way he makes you shrink in on yourself makes it somehow more real.

"U-Um…" Jolie clears her throat. "I brought the prince, and the boy who was attempting to help him escape."

" _Bitch_." John hisses vindictively, but he doesn't say anything more. You're just worried that you won't have any time to take a look at his cuts and that no one's going to bother tending to them while you both rot in jail.

The guard seems skeptical, but he slowly nods. The disinterest in his eyes hasn't changed. "The prince, huh?" He wraps his metal-enclosed hand around your forearm, drawing you forward. "We'll see about that. Her eternal Condesce will decide if he's the prince or better suited for the rubbage pile. And," almost as if a second thought, he jerks his chin, and Jolie releases John, nudging him forward and into you, "this one will be punished considerably. Betrayal towards the Empire is not tolerated." Oddly enough, the guard seems to have only one working arm. The other sleeve just sort of hangs limply at his side, unnerving you.

Jolie nods, and while she doesn't look very happy, she also doesn't seem to regret what she just did. "I'm glad to be of service." She drops into a low curtsy.

"All glory to the Peixes." The guard replies, giving a nod of recognition.

"All glory to the Peixes." Jolie repeats.

She straightens back up and turns, walking around the corner and away. You glare after her, hoping that she can feel the daggers you're mentally stabbing into her back. The guard turns around, both of you following. He's not very gentle, tugging you hard when you don't walk fast enough to keep up with his quick pace. You don't get to talk to John, but you do a visual check on him, anyway. Other than the cut, you think that he's fine. It looks pretty deep, and you make a mental note to clean it as soon as possible.

Suddenly, the guard stops walking. You look up at him, confused, but before you can demand an explanation, he lets go of your arm to reach past you and open the closet door you're standing next to. "What are you-?" You start, but he shoves you in before you can say anything. You grunt as you hit something hard and warm, feel John shoved in after you before the door closes behind you.

"Was that necessary?" A female voice asks quietly, acutely annoyed. There's the sound of stones clacking, and then the room is filled with light as she holds up a bright, burning torch to illuminate the entire room.

"Yes." The guard retorts, reaching up to grab his helmet. "It's not like these two listen to common sense." His voice goes up two octaves, and when  _she_ pulls the helmet off, waves of black hair come spilling out down around her shoulders to frame her face.

"Vriska!" John shouts, and she immediately slaps her hand over his mouth.

"Keep it down." She hisses, looking over her shoulder as if someone managed to silently open the door while she was busy dealing with idiots. "I'm not exactly supposed to be in this armor, you know? I would appreciate it if you could both manage to shape your shit up for a few minutes and keep it down." You and John both nod, and only then does she take her hand away from his mouth. "Good." She sighs in exasperation. "Anyway, right now, we need to be worried about escape. I could get out dressed like this without an issue, but the rest of you?" She grimaces. "You need to think of something else."

Nepeta, who is holding the torch, hums in thought. "I could pass for a servant if I had a uniform." She says slowly. "Most of the guard uniforms are too big for me." The frown on her face says that she would much rather be a guard, and you can't blame her.

"Ah, I could probably pass for a guard." Kanaya adds in. She's seated on the floor, her legs folded under her and her skirt smoothed out needly over her thighs. From the outside, she looks like the picture of calm, but the nails that she's bitten dull tell you otherwise. She looks less put together than usual, and it worries you. Kanaya is the voice of reason here, and something of an older sister or even a mother to all of her friends. As unfair as it is, you really need for her to stay strong. "But I would need a uniform, such as the one Vriska has."

John nods slowly, thinking about what to do. "It will be risky to get guard outfits from so many people…" He sighs. "We can knock out guards and take their armor, but what if one of them gets the upper hand on us, or we're found out? Or if they wake up and alert the Condesce about what's happening?"

A scoff from Vriska, and she sighs. "John, you're still so naive." She tisks, as if disappointed. "We kill them, obviously. A dagger in the chest should keep them quiet, or we could just go for the messier approach and slit their throats." She suggests with a faint little smirk.

Hearing this idea, John pales a little, and he shakes his head rapidly. "No." He states firmly. "There's no reason to kill them, Vriska. They're just acting on orders - it's not their fault." He tries, but if the look on Vriska's face is any indication, she isn't buying it.

Her gaze hardens. "What, and you think that any of them are going to think twice about killing  _us_? You need to wake up, John. This isn't your stupid small-town bakery anymore. This is the real world, and these are  _really_ bad people-"

"Well, that doesn't mean that we have to become them!" John shouts, interrupting her. His hands are clenched, and you're not sure if he's going to cry or punch her. The little closet is silent, the tension in the air absolutely suffocating in such a small space.

You take a careful, step forward, putting a hand on John's shoulder. "Hey." You murmur into his ear, soft enough that no one else can hear. "It's okay. Calm down." You rub his back between his shoulder slowly, soothing him the way you know his dad used to.

For a second, John struggles, like he wants to push you away, but then he sighs. "Yeah, alright." He mutters, leaning into your touch and relaxing. He looks at Vriska, and you can tell that he's still frustrated, but after a moment, he seems to come to a decision. "Do what you want," John tells her, "but I'm not going to have any part in it."

You remember what Terezi told you, about how Vriska seems to think that John has this "potential." Well, you wonder what must be going through her head now that she's been thoroughly rejected.

But Vriska just flicks her wrist dismissively, looking away. "You're a fool, John." She says. "You'll get us all killed. But, fine." She rolls her eyes, practically spitting out her next words. "We'll take the moral high road and not kill anyone. For now."

She turns her back to the four of you, muttering under her breath about something that you can't make out. In a weird way, you can sympathize with where she's coming from. You know that she must be itching to get back to Terezi. You have, um- a few people you want to see, too.

"We should acquire another uniform." Kanaya says slowly, eyes darting between John and Vriska as though she expects them to explode at any moment. "It would be most beneficial if we were quick."

Everyone nods. At the very least, you can all agree that you need to do something. The plan is for Vriska to wait outside the door and hail down a guard for assistance. Once she has his attention, she'll knock him out and drag him into the storage room, where you'll strip him down and take his armor.

It doesn't take very long for the first one - Vriska waits outside, and you hear the sound of metal-clad feet walking, followed by muffled voices. The door opens, and there's a loud clang as Vriska uses the back of her hand to knock him out with a blow to the back of the head. You help drag him into the room, and John frowns at the blood on the back of his head, but the man is still breathing, so he doesn't protest Vriska's methods.

You try to slip the chest piece on, but it's too big over your thin chest. It fits John better, so you let him have it. He looks weird, his body lost behind metal plates, but it's impossible to tell that he isn't really a guard. You suppose that the armor has done its purpose, then. Nepeta covers the unconscious body with empty flour sacks, until he's hidden from view.

"Alright." Vriska says once he's dressed. "If something goes wrong, John, remember to act as if you're apprehending them, alright? You're a guard now - remember that."

She steps back outside to wait for the next man. You stay on the ground with Nepeta and Kanaya, John poised above you with his hand on his stolen sword's hilt, tense as if ready to draw it at any moment.

The next time you hear footsteps, you freeze up. You hear at least three men marching down the corridor, and you close your eyes and try to breathe as quietly as possible. They stop outside of the door, and you stop breathing entirely.

"What are you doing guarding this door?" A very authoritative voice demands. "Her Tyranny does not pay us to waste her time - tear this castle apart until you find the prince! Go!"

Vriska protests. "But, sir-" She tries, but you don't hear any more from her. The footsteps continue, moving away now, and when you open the door to look out, nobody is there anymore.

You let out a shaky breath, moving back. "John." You whisper. "What would you say to a little change of plan?"

Three pairs of eyes turn to you in the darkness, various mixes of curiosity and concern in all of them. "Depends." John says after a long, tense pause. "What kind of change are you suggesting?"

You bite your lip. You don't want to do this, but you don't really care about what  _you_ want anymore. You have too much to lose and not enough time. So you take a deep breath, and force it out. "Turn me over to the Condesce."

Instantly, John is shaking his head, aghast at the idea. "Absolutely not!" He says. "Dave, it's not like she wants you just to look at you! She will  _kill_ you! And then kill plenty more! If we don't stop her, she'll level this whole continent to the ground!"

You sigh. "Don't you think I know that?" You ask, a little more desperate than you would like. "Listen, this is an opportunity we can't pass up. After all of this effort to kill me, I don't think the Condesce is going to do it swift and quick. She's going to want to make a show out of it. So while she's doing that and her guard is down, you and Vriska can take her out from the inside  _and_ find out where the others are. It only makes sense!"

John's expression softens. "Look, Dave, I get where you're coming from, but we can't just-"

"-actually," Nepeta cuts in, "I think that Dave has a great idea. Me and Kanaya can be servants, and because you're a guard, you'll have the perfect excuse to know where prisoners are kept!"

Kanaya nods her agreement, and you see John's expression tighten as he struggles to come up with a reason to not go through with your plan. You understand where he's coming from. A week ago, you would be scared shitless of the idea that someone would stop at nothing to kill you, but now you aren't scared. You're angry - furious, even, with her, and yourself for letting it come down to this.

The wait is agonizing.

No one says anything as John thinks, looking at you and then up at the ceiling, then back to you, as if doing this will give him the answer that he's searching for. The castle, too, seems to match the mood of the room. You don't hear anyone coming this way anymore. In fact, you don't hear anything at all. If you didn't know any better, you would think that the castle was deserted.

 _Finally_ , John let's out a shaky breath. "Fine." He says stiffly. "But only because we don't have any other options. Dave, come on, let's go." He reaches down and grabs your hand, hefting you to your feet. Then, he looks to Nepeta and Kanaya. "You two follow us when we leave - try and mix with the other servants there, alright?"

Nepeta gives a brief nod, and Kanaya rises to her feet. She dusts her impeccable skirt off and puts a hand on your shoulder. "Be safe, Dave." She tells you, leaning in and pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. "And give that to Rose for me, when you see her." With a little, parting squeeze, she let's go of your shoulder and steps back.

For a moment, you just stare at her. You wish that you had made more of an effort to be friends with Kanaya, but in that brief second of stillness, something unspoken passes between the two of you. Maybe the two of you are closer than you first imagined.

John tugs you through the closet door, shutting it behind the both of you. He turns to you, and gives a forced smile. "Are you ready?" He asks, putting his helmet on. Now, you can only see his eyes, bluer than the ocean, and twice as deep. "Remember, you have to act like you're struggling with me. They have to buy this."

You take a breath to relax, and nod. You turn around, putting your arms behind your back, and flex your wrists. You tense a little when you feel John grab you, his grip cold and foreign in those gauntlets. Experimentally, you struggle, leaning forward to try and slip from his hold. He tightens his grip, holding you, and you straighten back up. "Alright." You sigh. "Let's do this."

When he pushes you forward roughly, you growl, cursing and struggling against his hold. You aren't really pretending anymore - you really are trying to get out of John's hold, and he really is holding you. He leads you down the way that Jolie was pushing you towards, and you have to fight back nervousness when the guards start getting more frequent. You're not entirely sure how, but you manage to find the throne room. It's not hard to miss - it's the one with the huge, golden, double doors with no fewer than eight guards watching it at any given time.

They laugh and clap John on the back when he approaches, and the one nearest the door opens it for him. Instantly, all noise dies down. You even stop struggling, a healthy mixture of awe and fear filling you.

You aren't awed by the room - it's as big as the King's greed, and anything that can be made out of gold, is. It's what you're expecting, so it isn't surprising. What really leaves you rooted to the spot is  _her_.

Her Imperious Condescension is larger than life. Even for a female, she towers over you easily, but that might just be her huge demand for respect. She's not even standing, and you feel two inches tall. Actually, the Condesce is… dozing off. For a noblewoman, she sure doesn't care about acting the part, having draped herself lazily over the King's golden throne, with her feet dangling over one of the armrests and her arms crossed, her head leaned forward and her eyes closed. They're still closed when, after holding your breath for what feels like an eternity, she speaks. "Bring 'im in." She drawls, stretching out over the throne with a groan. "Ah, fuck. I was gettin' bored - was just 'bout ready to fire one of ya." Her eyes flutter open, and she turns to look at you with a mixture of boredom and annoyance on her face. "Well, what're you waitin' for? A royal decree? Get your asses over here."

She doesn't raise her voice, not once, but she doesn't need to. John jolts at the command, forcing his legs to move and bringing you to a stop in front of her. He considers something for a moment, and then let's go of one of your wrists to grab a fistful of your hair, forcing you to bend forward in a clumsy bow. He does the same. You hear the Condesce chuckle, but you don't dare look up.

There's the sound of clothes rustling, followed by her heels hitting the floor. She takes a few steps closer, and then stops. "Stand up straight." She commands, and John instantly does as told, forcing you to do the same thanks to the hand in your hair. "Alrigh'." She sighs and cracks her knuckles, taking three more steps and standing directly in front of you. "Let's see if you're the real deal this time, huh?" Her hands come up, and you internally wince at the sight of her nails. Do they really need to be  _that_ sharp? Almost daintily, she wraps her fingers around the sides of your shades, pulling them forward and off of your face. You blink at the sudden intensity of the light in the room, but you barely get a moment to process before she has a grip on your chin, yanking you forward. Her nails are digging into your jaw painfully, and you fight to keep from struggling in her hold. Her eyes are boring into yours - they're blue like John's, but icy, cold as her heart and nowhere near as nice to look at as his are. And just as suddenly as she grabbed you, she releases you, laughing and turning her back to you. "Oy, whatever the fuck your name is - guard. Leave." She orders with a dismissive flick of her wrist. And John does. He let's go of you and hurries out of the room, the door shutting behind him with a bang and filling the rooms with the echoes of your death sentence.

You're alone.

You swallow thickly, having to look up to make eye-contact with the Condesce as she turns back to face you. This close, you can see the resemblance between her and Feferi. They have the same unmanageable hair, the same jaw line, the same nose, and the same lips. But Feferi's eyes are a much softer and less intense shade of blue - one that you would give just about anything to see right about now.

"So," The Condesce starts, looking you up and down with disdain - like she was expecting something more for all the trouble she's gone to, "you're the prince, huh? I'd know those eyes anywhere - your old man had eyes just like that. They look real nice when they're filled with anger ov'r seeing his wife decapitated." She barks out a laugh, turning her back to you to walk back over to the throne. Your hands curl into fists at your sides, and you resist the urge to wring her neck for that. You would - you would kill her right now if you thought that you stood a chance, and if you knew where your friends were being held.

She grabs something leaning against the throne that you didn't notice before - a solid gold trident. She hefts it up over one shoulder like it's nothing, and your mouth goes dry. You're not an expert on how much gold weighs, but you know enough to piece together how strong she must be to lift a  _fucking solid gold trident_  like it's  _nothing_.

Seeing the look on your face, the Condesce smirks. "Like it?" She purrs. "Don't worry - it's not for you. I've got somethin' a thousand times better waitin' for ya." Again, she's standing in front of you, this time with a trident casually balanced over her shoulder. "Y'know, my favorite prisoner talks 'bout ya all the time…" She sighs, as if bored, and you bristle. "He used ta go on 'n on, so sure that you would come and rescue him and kill me. It was actually kinda annoying - so I fixed him." She grins, practically tearing her cheeks just to stretch her lips even wider. The sight sends a shiver down your spine. She leans in, lips brushing your ear, and whispers, "I think you'll like the improvements 've made to Karkat - I'm personally  _real_ glad that he's stopped fightin' me."

You snap, lunging for her. Just as quick, she swings her trident around, and you get a moment to berate yourself for falling for such an obvious bait, but then there's a painful swelling in your skull and you can't think at all. For a moment, your vision goes black. You're pretty sure that you're on the ground now, based on the feeling of the cold tile under your cheek. Your vision slowly returns, blurry and swimming and impossible to understand - frankly, you're just amazed that you're still conscious. You try to push yourself up, only to grunt when a sharp heel digs into your spine and forces you back down to the floor.

"Stay down." The Condesce says with a smug tone, her voice sounding far away through the ringing in your ears. You think that she just barely missed your temple. You can feel blood trickling down the side of your head and through your hair. "Just as pathetic as your dad… guess it runs in the family." She steps off of you, and you stay on the ground. You want to sleep. Maybe this will all be over if you just sleep…

Then, there's another pain in the back of your head that has you shouting, and your eyes fly open just in time to see reality twist away from you, before they slip shut again and you're gone.


	33. The Man I Know I'm Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our consciences  
> are always so much heavier than our egos.  
> I set my expectations high,  
> so nothing ever comes out right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I'm late for another update. I'm sorry, guys, I've been really into a show from my childhood that I've recently rediscovered. I'm actually writing a fanfiction for it, but I'm wondering if anyone is going to read it. Do any of you happen to enjoy The Secret Saturdays? If you haven't seen it, you should give it a watch. I think I'm in love.

First and foremost, you spend anywhere from five minutes to an hour in a great deal of pain.

As it turns out, it is a little difficult for you to keep track of the time passing when your head feels like someone has split it open and is stabbing your brain repeatedly with a fork. You have trouble remembering yourself for a moment. What happened? Where are you?

You blink your eyes open. Well, that answers the where question. You're in a dungeon cell. You look around, taking note of what's surrounding you. The cell is pretty bare, just like the ones you have at home. It's not like dungeons are built with comfort in mind.

It has a plank of wood against the far wall, with what you think is supposed to be a blanket over it. It looks more like a filthy rag, and you can't tell if it was like that when it was put in here, or if it's just like that after so many years of being used by prisoner after prisoner. You aren't sleeping on it, which is a little surprising. But you suppose that the Condesce was trying to send some sort of message by having you tossed on the cold, dirt ground haphazardly. The message is supposed to be that she doesn't care about you, but you have a hard time buying that. You stand on shaky legs and dust yourself off. Other than a hole in the floor, tucked back in the far corner of the room, there's nothing else in the room. The walls are smooth stone, completely bare and seamless. There aren't any windows, not even a tiny one with bars over it to make you feel even more hopeless.

Outside of your cell, the hallway is completely engulfed in darkness, aside from the single torch burning brightly across from your cell. Beyond that, you can't even tell if there are other cells around you, much less if someone is in them.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that this room is designed for isolation.

You try the bars of the cell, rattling each of them in turn. They don't budge in the least. Huh. Well, this sure is an awfully secure cell for someone the Condesce claims not to care about… You can only hope that John and Vriska are still blending in with the guards, otherwise, you're going to be stuck here until she figures out how she wants to kill you. Assuming that she hasn't already and just wants to build up suspense, of course.

You had been expecting yourself to be more… well, panicked and terrified than you actually are. You feel abnormally calm, and you don't fight the feeling. You sink down along the back wall, glad that you still have your fine clothes to keep you semi-warm. It's very cold and damp in this cell, but you think that that's done on purpose. Miserable people are so much easier to break than ones who are completely happy and satisfied with their accommodations. You sigh, relaxing on your little "bed" as you wait for the Condesce to come to you. You would escape, but you aren't sure how you would go about it. And that kind of defeats the purpose of letting yourself get captured in the first place.

And so, you wait.

Waiting is incredibly boring, but you're used to it. Life in the castle was also boring, but you suppose that at least you had something to do while you were there. Sure, you were controlled to the point that your father would even tell you that you were  _breathing_ too loud, but as boring as it all was, you had a sprawling library to explore. You could go see John and Jade on the especially dull days, which became more and more frequent as your father slowly closed up. He stopped making you take dancing lessons and sword-fighting lessons, and everything you learned from the age of fourteen and up was taught by him exclusively. So you had a lot of time on your hands to learn how to get good at distracting your thoughts.

You lift the piece of wood off of the ground, looking under it. Your eyes widen in pleasant surprise - there is a small, narrow piece of metal stuck into the ground. It isn't much, sure, but you grab it anyway. It's better than having bare hands, and you can use it to entertain yourself. It isn't as if you're going to be able to escape, of course, but if you don't have anything to keep yourself busy, you're going to lose your sense of calm and start to panic.

You set your plank of wood up against the wall and use the little metal shard to start digging. You just want something to entertain yourself with, and as you dig, you come across little rocks. You pick those out, putting them in a small little pile. Once your fingers feel stiff and aching after God knows how long, you stop and move your wood plank back into place. The hole is deep enough for you to stick your entire arm into. Next, you think that you'll work on widening it out, but for the time being, you count your rocks.

You have fifty-two rocks in total. Not one of them is pretty. They're all a rather dull, uniform shade of grey. The biggest difference seems to be size and shape, but none of them are bigger than your thumbnail. They quickly cease to hold your interest.

You pick them all up and throw them, watching them scatter over the dirt, pass through the bars, or clang off of them and land in front of you again. That's kind of entertaining, for all of ten seconds. One of the pebbles bounces back and smacks you in the leg. You pick that one up and put it in your pocket. It's smooth all around, and one of the bigger pebbles. You decide that it will be your good luck charm. You're going to need all the luck you can get.

You spend a long time staring at the ground in front of you, rubbing the little pebble in your pocket. You wonder where your friends are being held, and where Karkat is. Is he okay? You're worried about what the Condesce said before she knocked you out - that she had "fixed" him. If he's dead, you'll-

Well, you won't kill the Condesce. No, that would be far too good for someone like her if it reaches that point. And you know enough about torture methods to keep her alive and in agony for a long, long time.

Something tells you that these thoughts you're having should worry you, but they don't. You just woke up without any guilt, and without any more pity. You're done. You are so completely and utterly fucking  _done_  with whatever game she's trying to play. You're going to get your friends, put a dagger in her throat, and get out. Then, you aren't sure what you'll do. You haven't thought that far ahead, and it doesn't matter, anyway. As long as your friends get out safe, you don't care what happens to you.

Your head snaps up at the sound of footsteps.

Your heart leaps into your throat, and you panic for a moment over what to do. The torch that your "visitor" is carrying sends light bouncing off of the walls, illuminating enough that you can finally see the other cells. They're all empty and abandoned, and spaced out so far that it's no wonder you didn't see them with your limited light source. You aren't sure what they're expecting from you, so you don't do anything, merely sitting as still as you possibly can. The footsteps are heavy, and accompanied by the sound of rattling metal, so you deduce that the Condesce isn't coming to see you. She's still giving you the silent treatment, apparently.

You find yourself holding your breath as the guard approaches your cell, walking slowly almost on purpose. He stops in front of the cell door, and places his torch in the rack next to the first one, both of them flickering brightly. He pulls out a key, which he uses to unlock your door. It swings open on creaky hinges, eerily loud in the deathly quiet of the dungeon. For a moment, he pauses, as though expecting you to charge him. But you don't do anything more than blink, and he steps inside. In his other hand, there's a platter of food. You hadn't noticed it before, but upon seeing it now, your stomach growls. It's just a piece of bread, a hunk of cheese, and a small, dirty cup with what you assume to be water in it, but food is food, and you are in no place to be picky.

You observe the guard warily, and instead of putting the food on the ground and leaving the way you had expected him to, he comes closer. You fight not to step back, and the man holds the plate of food out, presumably for you to take. You raise an eyebrow, but he doesn't do anything else, just stands there, so you hesitantly reach out and take it.

His hands free, the guard reaches up, grabbing his helmet awkwardly with his hands engulfed with steel gauntlets. He manages to get the helmet off, and you jerk with surprise.

Forgetting that his entire body is encased with metal, you shout with relief, ignoring the food momentarily to wrap John in a very awkward, one-armed hug (You aren't about to drop the food, after all. You're hungry.).

John manages a laugh that you can tell is forced and returns your hug as best he can. "Hey, Dave." He sighs. "Sorry I couldn't come sooner - the Condesce was keeping a really close eye on me. I don't think she trusts me - because I got guard duty - but there was always someone around me to make sure I was actually doing my "job." That got annoying pretty fast, but at least I got the job to bring you your food, so we can talk for just a minute. So," he looks around, anxious, as though expecting someone to be watching him, "I found where they're keeping our friends." John whispers. "I haven't gotten to talk to them, but I can find them. More or less."

You raise an eyebrow. "'More or less'?" You repeat, hissing. "The fuck is that supposed to mean, John? Do you know where they are, or not?" Okay, yes, maybe you're being a little short with him, but you don't care. You aren't suffering in this dungeon for John to "more or less" save your friends.

He looks a little ashamed of himself, and sighs. "Yeah, um… I saw everyone except Karkat." He admits, watching your expression carefully.

You realize that you never told John (or anyone) about the kiss you had with Karkat. And you don't plan to, either.

Regardless, John seems to realize that this news is going to upset you, and it does. You glare, and without your shades on, you're willing to bet that your red eyes make this a little terrifying for him. "Why isn't he there?" You're impressed that your voice isn't shaking. Fear and anger are growing in your chest, and you're scared for John to be around you when one of them inevitably wins out.

You've never seen a full-grown man in a suit of armor recoil from you. You know that John isn't worried about his physical well-being, but you've never blown up around him. He seems to understand, without needing to be told, that it isn't going to be pretty. "Uh, well… I talked to Vriska about it, and she thinks that it's because the Condesce has him somewhere "special," you know?" He gestures around you. "Like this cell. But I've walked up and down the dungeons several times now, and I haven't seen anything." John frowns. "Look, I'll keep looking, alright? I'm sure I'll find something soon." He puts a hand on your shoulder in what you think is supposed to be a comforting gesture, and you sigh and nod, if only so that he isn't worrying about you when he should be focusing.

"Alright." You agree, deflating. "Just hurry, okay? I don't know how much longer she's going to keep me alive, and I doubt that she'll hold off on killing me if we ask her nicely for more time."

John forces a small smile. "Right, of course. I'm on it, Dave, don't worry." He pats you on the shoulder, awkwardly hesitating, and then turns and leaves. He locks the cell behind him and looks guiltily up at you. "I'll be back tonight to give you your dinner, okay?"

Again, you nod, and wave him away. "Just go - before someone sees you." You tell him. John obliges, and a moment later, he's retreating with his torch in hand, and he's gone.

And you're alone.

You almost wish that you hadn't been so hasty about having John leave, but no. No, his mission here is far more important than you feeling lonely. You're just being childish.

You sit down and take the plate that John brought you, placing it in your lap. The food looks awful, but you can't really be picky right now. You eat your stale bread, and nibble the cheese before deciding that it's safe. It's probably on the verge of molding, but you don't see anything fuzzy or green growing on it, so you eat it. It's still better than the old bread, at any rate. And the water tastes foul, too, but it washes down the food and fills you up, so you bare the taste and down it all.

Well, that was a good way to pass about three minutes. You sigh. Now, all you have left to do is wait. You grimace at the little wood plank that's supposed to be a bed. You don't want to sleep on that, but… You do anyway, laying down and curling up a little bit. Nothing is going to make you use that raggedy piece of fabric as a blanket, so you sleep on top of it instead. You don't think that you'll be able to fall asleep, but right as that thought passes through your head, your eyes droop, and you're soon soundly asleep.

* * *

You wake with a start, disoriented for a moment. You blink slowly, your eyes struggling to adjust to the low light. It takes a minute for you to remember where you are and what happened, and when you do, you're suddenly wide awake.

It's been two days since you were brought here, days that are filled with nothing but impatience and anxiousness as you wait for John to bring you food and news. Now, though, you're alert, breath held as your eyes adjust to the darkness. Something woke you up. But what? You look around, and you don't see anything at first, but then you squint against the darkness and your breath catches in your throat.

A hand slaps over your mouth, and Rose makes a quiet shushing sound. She cocks her head, listening, and you hold your breath in turn. You're waiting to hear something, but… there's nothing. Still, you wait another two minutes before Rose sighs and lets you go, moving back and standing up.

"What are you still doing on the ground?" She asks, her voice barely loud enough for you to hear as she inches her way back over to the cell door. Hurriedly, you scramble to your feet after her. You start to question your sister, but Rose presses a hand over your mouth, her head cocked as she listens once more. You wait, albeit impatiently, for her to finish, and then follow behind her as she eases down the corridor and out of the dungeon.

You're full to bursting with questions to ask her, but every time you open your mouth, Rose shushes you impatiently. She can somehow always tell when you have something to say, which you chalk up to just being a twin thing. That, and her being an insensitive prat.

Still, you keep your feelings to yourself and let Rose lead you up a flight of roughly carved stone stairs. You aren't sure how far down you are, just that the staircase Rose uses goes only up. You count the floors it branches off onto. One, two, three… seven floors, and then you stop counting, paranoia creeping down your spine. How many cells does the Condesce really need? This seems like extreme overkill to you… And where are the guards? Your dungeons are patrolled day and night, nonstop. Maybe the Condesce is just too comfortable for her own good in her home.

The only positive side to the mind-boggling amount of cells is that it distracts you from your questions. You aren't even thinking about Rose and her timely and mysterious appearance until she stops at the very top of the numerous stairs. It's no wonder your body ached when you woke up here - whoever dragged you to your cell probably didn't put a lot of effort into making it a comfortable journey.

"Here." Rose mumbles out of the corner of her mouth, pushing open the door at the top of the circular stairs. She looks around before taking your hand, leading you out and shutting the door quietly behind you. From the folds of her torn skirt, she removes a key, locking the door and walking quickly down the hallway she led you into.

"Where are we?" You hiss, squinting to see in the darkness around you. You're not sure what the point of all of this is - the dungeon is so secure that it loops right back around to being tedious to access.

Luckily, you seem to be out of the most stressful part of the trip, because Rose doesn't shush you this time. "This is the place where the Condesce keeps her most important prisoners." She tells you, stopping at the end of the corridor to turn to you. You aren't sure what's on the other side of the door, but it's worth not knowing to listen to Rose's explanation. "Each floor is dedicated to a certain form of torture. Water torture, isolation chambers - something with live rats that I found very distasteful. I checked each one before I got to the bottom to grab you - there's absolutely no one else there. I guess she's very thorough. Some of the tools she had-" Rose grimaces, "well, they make father's dungeon looks like a relaxing getaway."

Your mind flashes with the sorts of torture methods your dad introduced to you, and you visibly wince. God, that's terrible. You can't even begin to imagine what horrible tools she had down there. "Thanks for getting me out of there, then." You reply, relaxing a little bit. Hopefully, the worst is over.

Rose shakes her head a little bit. "No, don't thank me." She says with a frown. "She wasn't planning to torture you, Dave. We aren't sure yet what her plan entailed, but it ended with you dead. I think she's just impatient for power - to be honest, I thought for sure that she would want to make you hurt after all the trouble she went through to get you."

You aren't sure how to respond to that, so you don't. "Where are the others?" You ask instead, glancing around despite knowing very well that you're alone.

"Waiting for us." Rose says. "John wanted to come get you himself, but he's busy with Vriska trying to keep the other guards from finding out that they're missing three prisoners." She bites her lip. "...we aren't sure where Feferi, Eridan, Sollux, or Karkat are. I was hoping that they would be in these private chambers, but beyond that…" She sighs. "We couldn't wait, though. The Condesce was going to have your execution in the morning, so we had to act fast. The important thing down is to hurry - hopefully, we can find them, but we all agreed that if nothing turned up by dawn, we would get out and leave John and Vriska to finish the search and rescue. Can you accept that, Dave?" She seems worried, and almost on edge, watching you carefully. Has John been telling her about your emotional state?

For a moment, you're silent. How do you answer that? You don't know if you could knowingly leave this place with Karkat still locked away somewhere, lost. You can't imagine how much he must be hurting right now. All of those different torture methods the Condesce has… any one of them could break Karkat, but you don't imagine that she would be satisfied with just one. She would want to put him in so much agony that he would get on his knees and beg for death and then continue to hurt him more.

But you know that look on Rose's face, and the glint in her eye. If you disagree, she'll probably just have someone remove you from the castle by force. And that's two fewer people around to search for Karkat.

So, you purse your hips and nod curtly. "I can do that." You say a little stiffly, but it appeases Rose all the same.

"Good." She breathes a sigh of relief, and turns to open the door out. "Just stay quiet, and stick with me, alright? Everyone is waiting for us…" The door swings open with a click of the knob, and your breath catches in your throat.

The hall lets out into an open jail cell, but this one appears to be part of the main dungeon system. When the door shuts behind you, it melds perfectly into the stone wall. You lose it for a moment, and then trace the wall with your fingertips until you catch on the door frame. No one would be able to find it unless they already knew what they were looking for.

You look around, and freeze in place. The dungeon empties off into a huge expanse of cells, so far that you can't see the end of it, about half of the filled with slumbering prisoners. But that isn't what makes you pause. In front of you, there's a staircase that leads up to what you assume is the main floor. And next to that, there's an open door that shows you a small, cramped room lined with cots. Cots that were all occupied by sleeping guards. You swallow thickly. Well, that must be why the Condesce doesn't have any guards down there. They're all up here, watching and guarding her little secret without even realizing it.

"It's okay." Rose whisper-hisses, eyeing the prisoners in the cells nearest you both in case they decide to wake up. "John got Terezi's advice, and he used the kitchen to make the guards a cake with every sleep-inducing plant he could get his hands on. Valerian root, passionflower, lemon balm, chamomile- more, probably. The guards won't be waking up anytime soon."

Carefully, you and Rose cross the room to the stairs, anxiously watching over your shoulders until you're out of sight. You might be able to pass for a noble in low light, what with your fine clothes, but their poor condition matched with your distinctive red eyes is a dead giveaway to your identity.

And Rose just looks awful. You didn't pay a lot of attention to her look before, in the darkness, but now it's obvious. Her hair is matted and tangled, and several shades darker with the dirt and dust build up. Her clothes are torn and ripped, hanging off in her some places by little more than a thread. She's covered in little cuts and bruises - obviously, the guards aren't very gentle with her. You feel a curl of guilt in your stomach. Rose may be the older twin, but you always had the urge to look out for her and protect her.

Not to mention, it's your fault that this happened to begin with. It was your idea to make the journey here, after all. It was you who befriended Karkat. If only you had just died in your room when you were supposed to, then everyone would be alright.

At the top of the stairs, there's a heavy, solid oak door that you help Rose open as quietly as possible. It creaks and squeals, but no one comes to investigate, and after closing it behind the two of you on the other side, Rose takes you by the hand and sets off. She mutters under her breath, but you don't ask her to speak up. This must be the main bulk of the castle - she has to press you up against the wall and slap a hand over your mouth more than once to keep you quiet as a group of guards marches by or a servant with arms filled with cleaning supplies bustles past you. The people are few and far between, and they all seem too busy to notice you.

Still, you hold your breath and stay on edge until Rose mutters, "This is it," and ushers you into a small room. You take a deep breath and relax. You only have the time time to register this as an unused guest room before you are immediately caught off guard as something warm and painfully solid slams into you.

The breath you just gathered is pushed out in a painful sort of wheeze, and your hands come up to carefully return the choke hold- you mean, the hug, you've found yourself in. "Jade." You manage, though your chest aches a little bit. You're happy to see her, despite the rough greeting, and you tuck your face against the top of her head and let yourself enjoy holding her for a moment. She smells like sweat and earth, but still so painfully  _Jade_  that you don't want to let go.

She's the one who ends the hug, stepping back and wiping off her face. If she was crying, then no one mentions it. There are more important things to be doing right now than shedding tears. "I'm glad you're alright." She mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear. You go to reply, only for John to speak up and quiet what little chatter there was in the room. Vriska seems a little annoyed, but she stops conversing with Terezi to direct her attention to your quasi-leader.

"Alright." He sighs, running a hand through his hair. Now more than ever, you realize how old and tired John looks. It wasn't so long ago that you were celebrating his birthday, but it feels like decades have grown between then and now. "So, I know you guys have been held here for a while," he gestures to Terezi, Jade, and Rose (who moved when you weren't looking and is now brushing shoulders with Kanaya) in turn, "and that's why I'm not going to ask you to stay and help with the search for Karkat, Sollux, Feferi, and Eridan. So, if you want to go, Nepeta can sneak you out - she blends in really well with the other servants here. Just… speak up now if you want out." There's a pause, and John scans the faces of his friends.

No one speaks up.

You feel a surge of affection for them all. It's not as though they were all close with Karkat, or Sollux, or especially Eridan and Feferi, so it makes you proud that they all want to help the others out, despite what they've been through recently.

Despite the nature of the situation, John manages to smile. "Okay, then." He breathes. "Well, I think we should split up into partners. We don't want to be caught alone, but we can cover more ground the fewer of us there are."

The groups don't surprise you. Rose takes Kanaya's hand with a satisfied grin, and the other girl blushes faintly. Vriska rather firmly puts a hand on Terezi's shoulder. It takes a moment for Jade to make a decision, looking between John and you before walking over to stand next to Nepeta. Either she wants you and John to smooth over whatever rockiness is still there, or she just doesn't want to be around you too much right now, with her feelings still raw. You aren't sure.

Regardless, you stand next to John, and he nods, satisfied. "Then let's head out." He states, his voice much more certain than he actually feels. You can tell, after years of knowing John, that he's scared. But of what? That, you aren't certain. "Remember, even if you don't find anything, head out when you see the sun on the horizon - just lay low, and get to the town square as soon as possible. All you have to do is head down the road from the castle. If you aren't there by noon, we're going to assume that you were captured." He looks around for a moment to make sure that everyone is following. "And, there are no exceptions to staying. Even if you're right in front of one of them, I want you all to leave unless there's a very obvious way to get them out with you. We can always regroup and stage a better rescue mission, alright? Right, then. Let's get going."

With nods and salutes, everyone files out in their groups. You and John hang back, and you bite your tongue to hold back questions. A part of you is worried, but you don't want to waste what little time you have to search for by talking that would be better done somewhere warm, over a cup of tea. "Hey." You pipe up, placing a hand on John's arm. Like Vriska, he's still wearing his suit of armor. When you touch him, though, he looks over at you, blinking as whatever he was thinking about fades. "Ready to do this?"

John looks at the door, and then nods, taking a shaky breath. "Yeah. Let's get everyone out." He mutters, putting his helmet on. "I've already checked most of the bottom floors, so let's try the ones closer to the Condesce'bedchamberer. It's risky, but it's worth a shot. She would want to keep nobles close, I think. Kind of like a… earn their trust so that they tell her everything method, you know?"

You nod in agreement, following John out the door. Yes, your father mentioned that method too, once upon a time. "Kill them with kindness," he had said, and then made sure that you knew how to do so quite literally.

But you aren't thinking about that now. Currently, your heart is hammering in your chest, and you feel a little bit overheated. You wonder what's going to happen when you find Karkat. Will he be alright? Or even alive? You don't want to think about that. If Karkat was already dead, you would never be able to forgive yourself. It would be all your fault - he said so himself, and he was right. Karkat was right about a lot of things.

You follow John up a spiraling staircase. Most of the castle seems to be deserted, but when someone walks by, John manages to tuck you out of sight. Usually, behind a curtain or a large object, and once, even using himself as a shield. No one stops John - you suppose that full body armor can be quite intimidating.

Down hallways, up more flights of stairs, up and up and up. The castle is just as endless as the Condesce's dungeon, but nowhere near as filthy. The higher up you go, the more obvious it becomes, what she spent all of her spoils of war on. The first floor was all narrow, stone corridors and drafty rooms, but the floor that John announces to be the "top" floor is so eloquent that it makes the castle in Morgona look like a barn.

The hallways are wide and spacious, and so perfectly aired that you feel almost like you're standing outside. There's a breeze fluttering through the corridor that you take a moment to enjoy despite yourself. The dungeon certainly was not enjoyable. It was filthy, and you hadn't realized it until now, but it was also very short on air. You breath it in, looking around. Your feet sink into the floor with every step, the carpeting is so soft. The walls, even, are lined with a rich, red silk, and every door has a knob encrusted with glittering gems. There are vases full of flowers that you know for a fact are out of season, blooming proudly in vases filled with water so clear that you are genuinely mystified. The Condesce must have bathtubs the size of swimming pools, and her bed, you're willing to bet, was probably carved out of the deepest mahogany, with blankets made from phoenix feathers.

Finally, at the end of the lavish corridor, John puts out his arm, stopping you. "This is her room." He tells you unnecessarily. You appreciate the thought, but it's so ridiculously obvious which room is the Condesce's, that a sign hammered into the wall next to it labeled "The Condesce's Room," would have been less telling.

This woman is as subtle as a flying mallet.

The door that leads to her room is at the very end of the heavily furnished hall. It's made of heavy oak, painted with liquid gold. You wish that you were joking, but just touching it tells you exactly what you suspected. The handle is solid gold, though, with a large diamond melded into it. Unbelievable. The gold is so shiny that it makes your eyes hurt, and if this is just her door, then you can only imagine what the inside of her room must look like.

You reach to open it, only to stop. Voices sound from behind you, and you and John stiffen up at exactly the same time. Your eyes dart around, but there's nowhere to hide. You've trapped yourself! Your panic is interrupted when John puts a hand on your shoulder.

You shoot him a dirty look. " _What?"_  You mouth impatiently. Why is he so calm? He's more collected than he has any right to be. Maybe he just doesn't understand what's about to happen, or maybe he didn't hear the voices like you do.

But then you pause. If someone had been coming, they should have already run into you by now, right? You look around, but there's no one near you. John points off to the side, and you notice for the first time, that one of the doors is open. It's not nearly as impressive as the Condesce's, but you ease over to it, anyway. You crouch down a little bit to stay out of sight, peering through the crack in the door to see who's talking. From your position, you, unfortunately, can't see anyone, but you don't need to see them to recognize their voices.

"Look, FF, for the last time, would you quit worrying?" Sollux's voice floats out into the hallway, sounding exasperated. Your eyes widen in shock. While your sister was in the dungeon being treated like dirt, Sollux was up here… and he sounds so  _casual_ , too. "I talked to your mom, okay? I promise that none of our friends are being treated bad - but she still doesn't want you talking to any of them until she gets answers, alright? They were in that place for a pretty long time, you know. They confused facts with opinions. Your mom is helping."

You clench your jaw, closing your eyes as you fight to keep yourself still. How could Sollux  _say_ something like that? "Well…" Feferi sighs, snapping you out of your rage just in time for you to put a lip on your fury. "If you're sure… I just- well, it would be nice if they would come to the wedding is all." She giggles, and you feel like you're going to be sick.

Sollux chuckles, and a moment later, the two of them come into view through the crack in the door. They're dancing together, Sollux's hand on Feferi's waist as they spin slowly around the room. Even in a frilly nightgown, Feferi looks as elegant as a noble lady should, leading Sollux with ease. "Don't worry." He tells her gently, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "The wedding will be perfect - I can guarantee it. Your mom wouldn't let it be anything less. Now, can we finally get you in bed? It's late, and you've burned away plenty of hours you better spent sleeping with your worrying." He chastises playfully.

Smiling, Feferi looks like she's going to agree, but she never gets the chance. You've seen enough. You shoot to your feet, slamming the door open with so much force that it bounces right back at you. You stop it with your foot and march into the room. "Facts and opinions mixed up, huh?" You snarl at a bewildered Sollux, frozen in shock. "Well, here's a  _fact_ for you. The fact is, you're a traitor! You've been feeding the Condesce information this whole time, haven't you? First, you sold out my dad, and then you sold out us! Our whole group! And  _now_ ," you jab a finger at Feferi, but don't look at her, "you're deceiving her, too! Does she even know about Aradia, Sollux? Does she? I was glad that you were moving on from her, but this is called  _replacement_! And in my opinion? You deserve to be chucked out this window." You stop there, panting. Your face is no doubt as red as your eyes, anger and hatred and frustration from all of this finally bubbling over. You're glad that you don't have a weapon. If you did, you might not be nearly so calm. And Sollux might not be breathing nearly so well.

" _It's his fault,"_  a little voice whispers in your ear, " _his fault that mom and dad are dead. His fault that Karkat is probably the same. He hurt Jade, he hurt your sister… he burned down your town and ransacked your castle. Show him what that feels like. Hurt him. Make him suffer. Tear him open. Make him beg for mercy. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him, kill him, kill him, KILL HIM, KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM-"_

"Oh!" Sollux says suddenly, yanking you from your thoughts so harshly that you have to drop your hands. They were twitching ceaselessly, longing to wrap around something… You force them back down to your sides. "I think you're misunderstanding, Dave!" He chuckles. "Earlier - I was talking about our friends, and that's why you're upset, right? You thought that I meant you guys?" Slowly, you manage to nod. "Well, I wasn't talking about you." He shakes his head, shushing Feferi when she opens her mouth to speak up. She looks horribly confused, but Sollux doesn't seem bothered. "No, those are some friends we invited to our wedding! They got tangled up in a thieving guild, though, so FF's mom is doing us a favor. She's having them recuperated instead of killed on sight!" He plasters on a smile so fake that it makes your insides curl. "I'm sorry you didn't get invited - I was told that you skipped town to avoid being caught."

You falter, and sputter incoherently. You don't know how to respond to that. How can Sollux be in this home, ten feet from where the Condesce sleeps, and  _not_ know that you just spent two nights in the dungeon?

John chooses that moment to enter the room, too, but he seems just as calm as Sollux. "Wait, Dave, I think I get it!" He states, and smiles at Sollux. "You're undercover for us to get details on the Condesce, aren't you?"

Automatically, Sollux's eyes snap over to Feferi. She stares forward, petrified with confusion and shock. Plastering a fake smile on his face, Sollux turns to her. "Feferi, do you think you could give me a minute with them?" He asks quietly, gesturing to you and John. "Just go wait in the bathroom until I finish, alright?"

Feferi nods blankly, and Sollux kisses her gently. She doesn't return it, instead waiting for him to pull back before walking over to the other door in the room. This, you assume, is the bathroom. The door shuts behind her with a soft  _click_ , and just like that, the silence presses in.

For a moment, you don't think that Sollux is going to talk, but then he sighs. "Alright, fine." He admits, keeping his voice down. "Look, I knew a long time ago that FF was the daughter of the Condesce, alright? I started dating her before I found out about her mom's "side business," but I figured that the connection would come in handy, anyway. So when she grabbed us back there, I spun some bullshit story about only being there to spy for her, and she ate it out of the palm of my hand. Feferi's mom always liked me - how else do you think I convinced her to bless our marriage?" He looks to the bathroom door, as though waiting to make sure that Feferi isn't listening, before he continues. "I would have gotten the others out, but they weren't being hurt, and I needed her trust. I have it. She's even made me one of her advisors."

You press your lips together into a thin line. Assuming that he's telling the truth (and you aren't sure if he is or not), then there's one part of that statement you want to pick at. "They're not being hurt, are they?" You ask quietly. "Then where is Karkat?" That's what you need to know. Eridan is probably somewhere else on this floor, stewing in self-hatred over this marriage, but you don't give a damn. You want to know where Karkat is.

At this question, Sollux falters. "I- I know where he is." He admits, hesitant. "But I don't know what sort of treatment he's gotten. She, uh- she would never let me see."

You step forward, pleased when Sollux warily takes a little shuffle backward. "Take me to him." You demand. "I don't care what you and Feferi and Eridan do, but I think we both know that nothing she has planned for him is anywhere close to pleasant." You practically seethe. You're furious with him. Excuses mean nothing - he had to have known that the Condesce would punish Karkat for not succeeding in his mission, and then running from her. You can tell from the look in Sollux's eyes that he is well-aware, but he never did anything to try and stop it. But whatever - if he doesn't want to ruin his perfect marriage, then fine. You'll save Karkat yourself.

Sollux nods, brushing past you and Dave and out the door. He seems to understand that whatever you could do to him  _now_ matters more than what the Condesce could do to him in the  _future_ for helping you out, because he doesn't hesitate to enter her quarters. Despite the late hour, though, she isn't here. You look around, but though the candles and torches are lit and the door was left unlocked, you don't see any sign of her.

The room itself is… well, you're not sure  _what_ it is. If you're being honest with yourself, you were expecting a poorly-lit dungeon themed room, maybe with paintings of her victims on every wall screaming in agony. But, no, it's not that at all. Actually, the room is something that you would expect more for Feferi's tastes. It's very… pink. Fuchsia, if you had to be exact. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, are all covered with the color. The walls and ceiling, if you had to guess, are lined with what looks like silk. The floor is a thick carpet, somehow even richer than the one lining the corridor you came from.

Above her giant canopy bed, the ceiling stretches so high that if you. Sollux, and John stood on top of each other, you still wouldn't be able to touch it. There, you see the biggest chandelier you've ever seen in your life, and the reason why the room is so bright. It's made of gold, but where there are placeholders for candles, she's welded diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, and other precious gems. The result is that the lit candles send their light through the crystals, making red and green and blue bounce around the room and bathe everything in dazzling color. The effect of it all hurts your eyes.

Her room is huge, but it's still crammed with objects, fit to burst. You see a closet the size of an elephant, so full that clothes are hanging out. There are stacks of empty boxes and wrappers next to stacks twice as large of unopened delicacies, you assume that she gets from admirers and suck-ups. Chocolates, honey, crystallized fruit… There are no plants in here, aside from a small vase of wilting red roses on the nightstand. There's also a row of bells on one side of the room, labeled with things like "Kitchen" or "Study," so that she can communicate with the rest of the household when she needs something. In the chaos, you see one thing that's out of place.

In the pink room, the oak bookshelf stands out starkly. Even more noticeable, is how empty it is. There are hardly any books on its shelves. Instead, it holds shoes. What really gets you though, is how old it looks. The thing is ancient, and you don't see the Condesce, with all her glitz and glamour, allowing something so unattractive to stay in her quarters.

You walk over to it, running your hands over the side of it with a frown. Sollux follows you, and while he doesn't say anything, you know that you're correct. The floor to the right of the bookshelf is empty and clean, so you press your hands flat on the side and push. It starts to move in barely-noticeable increments, and you struggle until John realizes what you're doing and moves to help you. You work together with him to push the bookshelf out of the way, slowly revealing a little door embedded into the wall. It's covered with felt like the wall, so if you hadn't spotted the doorknob, you would have simply dismissed it as a bad guess on your part.

For his part, Sollux doesn't do much. He watches the both of you with a worried look, visibly agitated, but doesn't try to leave or stop you. Finally, you get the bookshelf pushed far enough to reveal the door. It's too small for you to get through without ducking, but you realize immediately that it's the perfect size for the Condesce.

You and John share a look, and then you twist the doorknob to let yourself in. On the other side is a short hallway, barely more than the size of a broom closet. And off of that are two doors. You don't hear anything, squinting into the darkness to see. "Get a torch." You say out of the corner of your mouth, and John hurries to comply. He grabs a torch from the wall and hurries back to your side.

Now that you have light, you ease your way into the cramped little hallway. The doors are windowless, but have a little slit at the bottom that you can flip open with your shoe. You assume that this is to feed prisoners, and you grimace. Whoever she keeps her must be top priority if there are only two cells. You open the door on your left, and are immensely glad that you weren't the one holding the torch. If you had been, you probably would have dropped it.

"Karkat!" You rush forward, leaving John gapping in the entranceway. You don't know what state you were expecting him to be in, but it wasn't as bad as this. You tug on the ropes suspending him from the ceiling, but they're so tightly drawn that they don't budge. There are ones around his ankles, too, keeping his body strung up in a wide "X." He looks to be unconscious, either sleeping or knocked out, but you're too worried about everything else to think about that right now. "Give me your knife!" You snap at John, and he fumbles for it without comment. All guards have to carry around a weapon with them, so he draws his sword and hands it to you. It's stronger than a knife, and easier to hack away the ropes with. John finds a groove to place the torch, coming forward to support Karkat as you cut away the rope on his right wrist and he slumps forward. When the other wrist is free, the two of you carefully lower him to the ground, and you get to work on releasing his ankles.

This is sick. What kind of horrible woman keeps torture victims in her room? And who does this to another person? Your dad always focused on physical torture, but this…

You can tell by the heavy wool over Karkat's ears and the blindfold that he's wearing that he wasn't allowed to see or hear anything (both are removed once you get your fingers to stop shaking). The knots hanging him were so tight and stuck with built up dirt that you couldn't work them apart with your fingers, and it was even tough to cut into them. This tells you that he hasn't been let down, either, and rage bubbles inside of you next to your concern.

She left Karkat like this, strung up without being able to hear or see, nonstop. He was only able to eat when fed and the only thing that Karkat got to feel was  _pain_. His shirt is in shreds on the floor, and his pants are hanging off of him in tatters. And, cradling Karkat's head in your lap while you and John stare at his scarred body, you have never seen Karkat as small and fragile as he is now. He was always skinny, but now he's barely more than a skeleton with skin, and you feel tears burning your cheeks as your anger makes your eyes water.

You trace Karkat's arm, your eyes roaming the words carved into his expanse of skin. They're all going to be permanent - you expect that the Condesce knows exactly how deep to stick a dagger in order to get her desired result. Words like "Failure," "Pathetic," and "Useless," all jump out at you, and each one makes you more and more furious than the last. The bruises from whips tell you that she didn't just stop there, either, and the dried blood over his body lets you know that cleanliness wasn't her main priority. Still, the scars are healed up nicely. You suppose that she wanted them to heal so that Karkat would have to live with them, instead of dying from an infection.

You cup Karkat's cheek, amazed by how cold he is, and how faint the sound of his breathing is, even in the dead silence of the room. Can he even walk? His hands and feet are practically white, and you doubt that he can even move his fingers in this state.

"I'll kill her." You whisper, putting your hand on Karkat's chest to feel his heartbeat, and remind yourself that he's still alive. "I'll kill her for this."

"Oh?" A voice sounds from the doorway. "That a fact?" Your head snaps up, and you feel rage curl your insides at the sight of the Condesce leaning in the doorway, seeming unbothered by what you've discovered. Instinctively, you shift to the side, putting yourself between her and Karkat. She stares at her nails, examining them in the low torchlight. "You're more than welcome ta try, but I dunno how… successful your attempts will be."

You bare your teeth, biting back a very animalistic growl. You know she's baiting you, just like the last time, but now you have Karkat's unconscious form behind you, and you aren't going to sacrifice his protection for your pride. "Want to bet?" You said hotly anyway, because your hands are making fists so tight that your knuckles hurt, and you're having problems with controlling yourself.

John looks terrified, his face white as a sheet and his hands shaking ever so slightly. Still, he finds the courage to stand his ground, and you admire that about him. "The bells." He says slowly, surprising you and the Condesce so effectively that you both turn to look at him. "The- the bells in your room that are used to call the servants. Sollux rang them, didn't he?"

For a moment, the Condesce doesn't reply. She looks genuinely caught off guard, but then she smiles, her once lovely features stretching into something sick and unpleasant as she looks down at you both. "Yes, very good." She croons. "I'm almost upset that I've gotta kill you. Sollux," she claps her hands twice, "come 're. I think they've earned the full story before their pitiful lives end."

Torchlight approaches from behind her, and then Sollux comes into view, his face cold and hard, and nothing at all like the way you remember. There's nothing but disdain in his eyes as he regards you with a dismissive sweep of his gaze. "I thought it was obvious." He says finally. He isn't smug or cruel, like the Condesce. Mostly, Sollux is just indifferent.

The Condesce snorts, giving him a weak glare, like familiar irritation. You suppose that he's a smartass regularly. "Just tell 'em. 've got everythin' set up for tomorr'a at noon, and I don't wanna be held up with monologues." She rolls her eyes. "So, start explainin'."

There's a pause, and it seems like Sollux is going to refuse again. "Oh, alright." He sighs, and the Condesce smirks. "If it helps at all," he begins, turning to you, "I never turned on you. I was always working for Meenah- she even set me up with Feferi after Aradia- well, after I was ready to see other women." He shoots a glance at his future mother-in-law out of the corner of his eye, as if afraid to have misspoken, but she says nothing, and he continues. "I gave her the guard schedules, so her army could sneak into the castle virtually undetected. From the day I was hired, I was feeding the king bad advice, and reporting his decisions back to the Condesce. I made sure that I was in close contact with Karkat," he nods at the unconscious form between you and John, and you search desperately for a flash of remorse in his eyes - regret, even pity - but there's nothing, "from very early on, so that I could follow him if he tried to stray from his task. Which he did. Quite predictable of him. I'm actually a little disappointed." He snorts in disdain. "Anyway, after that, things were easy. The only ones who seemed to distrust me were Terezi and Vriska. I wrote to the Condesce about our location, which is how Feferi found us, you know - by going through the letters I sent, and I told her about our plans to leave the base, too, so she knew to ambush us."

Someone shifts next to you, and you turn, expecting it to be John, but you're so shocked to see Karkat moving that you don't even try to stop him. He's visibly weak, his arms shaking with the effort of pushing himself into a sitting position, and his eyes are so old and tired that you almost don't recognize them. His gaze flits right over you, to Sollux, and while he's in such a ghastly state that you worry he'll snap a bone just by moving, his anger is still so potent that it takes the breath from your lungs.

"You  _bastard_." He growls, his voice muted and almost alien after so long without use. He moves to stand, but that's where you stop him, putting a hand on Karkat's shoulder. He finally seems to notice you, his eyes locking onto yours with a ferocity that makes you light-headed. When he sees you, his expression doesn't soften at all. If anything, it hardens.

The Condesce steps forward then, and you notice Karkat shrink back, ever so subtly. And while the Condesce doesn't mention it, you can tell that she saw, too, based on the satisfied look in her eyes as she regards him. "It'll end tomorr'a, Karkat." She hisses with a smile plastered on her face. In response to this, Karkat shifts with obvious discomfort, looking away so that he doesn't have to meet her eyes. "You want it ta be o'er, don't ya?" She presses, stepping closer. "All that pain… All ya gotta do is one simple thing, and you'll ne'er have ta be hurt again. Isn't that what ya want? Karkat?"

A silence thick enough to smother settles over the five people in the room, all eyes fixed on Karkat. You haven't the faintest idea what the Condesce is talking about, but Karkat clearly does. After a moment of this, he takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Yes." He replies, in a voice so meek and small that your brain confuses Karkat with a child for a moment.

Satisfied, the Condesce brushes by you, and you move out of her way, John following your lead to shrink up against the wall. Karkat doesn't move. She crouches down to be next to his ear and puts a hand on his shoulder. "You know what to do." She cooes quietly, so close to him that her lips are brushing up against his ear as she speaks. "What is it that I want ya ta do, Karkat? What've I said, time after time, will end the pain?" Her hand comes forward, long nails touching his skin with surprising gentleness as she strokes Karkat's cheek.

His eyes have a dull, flat look about them when he lifts his head to look at you. And, even before his mouth parts to utter the words, you know exactly what Karkat is going to say. "I have to kill the prince." He mumbles, calm, as if he had told you nothing more important than today's weather.

"Very good!" The Condesce praises, but rather than looking relieved, Karkat winces. When she stands, the hand on his shoulder guides him up, too, and he wobbles on his feet. You want to rip him away from her, but the Condesce tightens her grip, her nails digging into his shoulder without concern for any pain he might be in. "I'm glad that ya remembered some o' our lessons, Karkat - it makes this much, much easier come tomorrow. All o' the preparations have been finished - it's your big moment ta make up for failin' so miserably the first time." Her hand travels down his arm, tracing the carving of the word "pathetic," standing out starkly against his skin. "Unless ya don't think ya can do it?" The words are a hiss, low and venomous. Immediately, Karkat shakes his head, biting his lip and letting out a small whimper. Every move is deliberate and purposeful, and she might as well just be guiding Karkat with puppet strings, because you can tell by the immense satisfaction in her eyes that he's responding exactly the way she wants him to.

"I can do it." Karkat says, more to himself than anyone else. The words, you know, are being fed to him, and have been for some time, but it still hurts to hear. It hurts to look at him like this, and be unable to help. You move forward a few times, only for the Condesce to threateningly hold up her trident against Karkat's neck, stopping you in your tracks and forcing you back against the wall.

Your jaw is clenched, your hands curled into fists, and every moment she's in contact with Karkat is a moment where all you want is to have your hands around her neck. She's mocking you - and she's not even trying to be subtle about it.

"Sollux?" She calls, and there's a grunt of acknowledgment from the door. Evidently, he couldn't care less about how much control the Condesce has over someone he's already written off as insignificant. "Be a dear, would ya? Lock up for me, huh?" He gives a deep sigh, and then nods, disappearing from view, you assume to get the keys to the cells. He takes his torch with him, but you can still see by the fading light of the one that John brought. "Well, then I'll see you two in the morning!" The Condesce waves at you and John, snapping you out of your thoughts. She places her hand on Karkat's shoulder, steering him from the room in front of her and ignoring his relatively tame attempts to get free.

You automatically start forward, hands already outstretched to yank her back, and then there's a glint of gold, the Condesce's trident cutting through the air, and someone shouts in pain. You freeze, watching the blood drip down the side of Karkat's head as he crumbles down on one knee in pain. His blood is impossible to look away from, matting his hair and staining his hands when he reaches up to touch the bleeding spot. There's a large gash on his scalp, visible under the tangled black locks, and you recoil from the sight of it. "Da-" Karkat starts, reaching toward you with an apology in his eyes, only to be cut off when he's shoved roughly forward.

The Condesce silences his protests with a meer look, stepping past him out of the room. The last thing you see before the door slams behind them is Karkat's eyes, wide as dinner plates and filled with enough fear to make your heart twist painfully.


	34. Act 2 Intermission 3: Another Way Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Got you down on bended knee.   
> What should my next weapon be?   
> It's over, you can't breathe.   
> Just sleep now, rest in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, good news, to make up for the short chapter! Maybe?
> 
> There are only four more chapters planned after this one! My story is fast concluding, but I'll save the sappy stuff for the official last chapter.
> 
> I'm going to be updating everyday! The last chapter should be posted on December 24th, Christmas Eve. Happy holidays to you all, even if Christmas isn't exactly what your family celebrates!

 

The rapid progress is remarkable. You've never had a prisoner who was so responsive to your treatment before. It makes you almost eager to get to your next sessions, but you know that patience is the key. You have to assert dominance over a person if you want to break them - overrule their desires with your own.

You know that he can't see or hear, but he still shudders when you enter the room. He must be able to feel your presence there - or, perhaps, sense the change of airflow as the door opens. You think it's cute. In your hands, you have a small bundle of carefully cleaned knifes. Lately, his skin has looked a little too… unmarked for your liking. You feel bad for bringing him here against his will. At the very least, he should have a "souvenir" of his time here, to remember you by.

As you always do, you take a moment to check his bonds. Sollux _was_ friends with Karkat, and while you trust the man your daughter wants to spend the rest of her life with, you never dismiss the power of empathy. Luckily for him, the bonds are just as tight as you left them. Satisfied, you touch a hand to your guest’s skin, and he jerks away from you as though burned, letting out a whimper of pain that is positively inhuman. It doesn’t surprise you, and you grin in delight. After long enough with treatment like this, you could break even the strongest-willed person. Karkat, by comparison, has been almost _too_ easy.

You reach up, gently removing his earmuffs and setting them around his neck until you’re done. “It’s nice to see you again.” You breathe the words, but it’s so quiet in the room that you doubt he has a problem hearing you. For these sessions, you try to talk very formally. Normally, you don’t care about how “proper” you sound, but you think that it adds a sort of… atmosphere to these sessions if you at least make an effort. “Do you remember what we did last time?” He’s been here for a week. By now, he knows better than the play the stubborn game. There’s a pause, and then he gives a little jerk of his head, a small nod. “Ah, I thought you might. Very good.” You praise him, and then lash out with your hand, slapping him flat across the face and wrenching a cry from between his lips as his head snaps to the side. Your lips twist up into a smirk.

“And, do you remember what last session’s _lesson_ was?” You press. You’re always careful not to give him a sense of time, or a sense of identity, either. You never use names or places or times or dates. Again, he takes a moment to answer, before giving a little nod. “And what _was_ that lesson, if you remember it so well?”

He hates talking, which is why you like to make him do it. His lips are cracked and chapped but, after a moment of deliberation, he parts them. “The lesson… it was that- that it’s all the prince’s fault… that I’m here.” He manages, his voice small and strained and gravelly from under use.

You nod, even though he can’t see it. “Exactly correct.” You say quietly. “You wouldn’t be here if the prince hadn’t forced you to be. He could have turned himself over at any time… stopped all of this… but instead, he cowers behind you and all of his friends for protection. You- one who has given him so much… He wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for you, but he doesn’t care. If he cared he would come for you, but no one is going to come for you, are they? You aren’t special or important in the slightest.”

He opens his mouth as though planning to say something, but then quickly shuts it without comment. You can’t help but smile. He’s such a fast learner. You’re almost proud. About as proud as a person like you can be, when it comes to accomplishments that aren’t your own.

You unwrap the bundle in your arms, carefully selecting a long, curved dagger, and setting the bundle down at your feet. You’ve been doing this for so long that you know exactly how deep the cuts need to be. “I think you've grown a big head in the time since we last spoke _face to face_.” You remark, referring to the day when you gave him his mission, all those years ago. You didn’t see him again until Sollux dumped him at your feet. “You need… a reminder. To know that you are not exempt from your job just because you find a target _attractive_.” You can’t keep the displeasure out of your voice when you say this, and Karkat shudders, knowing full-well what happens when you're less than satisfied with him.

You touch the blade to his skin, and begin to write.

You keep your daggers so sharp that it really _is_ almost like writing on parchment. His blood is your ink, his skin is the paper, and his echoing screams become your satisfaction. It’s effortless, sometimes - it surprises you how _easy_ it is to hurt people. You etch the word “pathetic” into him, and he begs for you to stop. “Coward” and “arrogant” come and go, and by the time you reach the word “liar,” he’s sobbing, apologizing over and over for having disobeyed you. You’re going to have to replace his blindfold - he’s soaked it through with tears. You continue to ignore him. “Lazy,” “obsessive,” “miserable,” “useless,” “disposable.” “replaceable,” “selfish,” “stupid,” “thoughtless,” “vain,” and on and on, until every last inch of free skin is covered and you’ve run out of words to use. He long since went quiet, limp in his bonds. He gives no more than a twitch when you slap him again.

You grab his earmuffs, which had fallen off while he was squirming, and tuck your knife away. You’ll clean it later. “I would stop, gladly, you know…” you say into his ear, “if only you could kill the prince…” He shudders, and you slip the earmuffs back into place. That is, you think, enough for today.

You turn on your heel and leave the room, off to find Sollux. He is the one who cleans and feeds your little soldier in training, after all. You’re excited for the day you let him down.

Originally, you had planned for Karkat to kill Meulin for you. You had been planning for that since the day your contact informed you that he had been delivered to her orphanage, also as planned. You had known that Meulin would pick the least-known orphanage to hide her precious son from you. Of course, she was wrong. Your friend was all too happy to inform you of his arrival on her doorstep, and you had carefully nurtured him day-by-day, for the time you would assign Karkat to kill his mother.

But, you suppose that killing the prince instead is satisfying enough. And afterward, you’ll enjoy lulling Karkat into a false sense of security before tearing his heart out.

Literally.


	35. Caught Like A Fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caught like a fly in a web of your lies,  
> it's truth be told now, or it's meet your demise.  
> So how did it feel, when you held the knife,  
> that you stuck right in my back, a thousand times?

"Fuck!" You kick the wall, resisting the urge to kick it again when all that you get is pain, shooting up through your toes and tingling your leg. You start to pace, walking off the ache in your foot as you circle the small cell. You have no idea what's going to be done with Karkat, but you are, at least, mildly comforted by the knowledge that he won't be killed. If the Condesce was going to kill him, she would do it in front of you.

John watches you pace, a much calmer, but still just as worried, look on his face. "Dave, look- I understand that you're upset, but please, just sit down?" He asks.

You don't know why he bothered - he knows you well enough to understand just how badly you're going to react to being told to "calm down." You glare, and open your mouth to snap at him, but the words don't come. You struggle for a moment, deliberating your choices, and then you simply sigh and sit next to him like he said.

You aren't sure what to say, but John seems to understand that. He puts an arm around your shoulders, and you lean against him. You think that this sort of position could be considered romantic, but right now, you don't really care. "Karkat kissed me, you know." You say before you can stop yourself. "Before I… before he made me jump off of the cliff, I mean."

With a little nod, John hums. "Hm." Is all he says. There's a pause before he speaks again. "Yeah, I thought that… that he might like you." He admits. "I mean, not while it was all happening, obviously. I never considered that his feelings might be romantic until you- um, well, until you kissed me that one day. And I started… looking back, and- well, yeah, it was just really obvious in hindsight, alright?" He concludes hastily, obviously not wanting to talk about it.

You give a little sigh. "Yeah." You agree. "It really, really was. I must be denser than a brick wall… I have no idea what I was thinking." You close your eyes, and silence stretches between the two of you. It doesn't feel forced or awkward - you're rather at peace, leaning against John and letting yourself relax.

This probably isn't the best situation to be relaxing in, of course, but… You think it's very obvious that there isn't a way out of here, and it would be a better use of your time if you could figure out what to do once you're both released, when the Condesce comes for you at noon. Karkat is supposed to kill you. You would like to think that he would never do something like that, but… you have no idea what he's been through since you've been separated from him. For all you know, Karkat is a completely different person.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you think is going to happen to us?"

You don't get an immediate response. John seems to consider your question, and then he sighs. "I think…" He says slowly, "that Karkat will have to kill you in a publicity stunt, and if he doesn't, then she'll kill me. Or, our others friends, if she can find them…" John looks around the small room, you think looking for a way out. There isn't one.

The tiny window in the room has bars over it, and even if it was big enough to squeeze through, the fall to the ground is impossible to survive. The door is heavy and thick, barely enough room between it and the wall for you to slip a hair though. Even if you could get through it, there's no way that you'll escape the Condesce's bedroom. Assuming, of course, that you can even move the bookcase keeping you locked in here.

"I just hope that they actually leave when the sun rises." You say, and John nods and gives a grunt of agreement.

Again, there's silence. What is there to say? You think that plenty has been talked about, and done, in the last hour alone to satisfy you for a lifetime, and you're exhausted.

"Do you think that Sollux is a bad guy?" John asks quietly, drawing lines in the dust on the floor with the tip of his finger. You watch him for a moment, deliberating how to give your answer.

You already know what to say - the question is,  _how_  do you say it? "No." You state simply. "I think he's just… confused. I mean, after his wife was murdered, I imagine that the Condesce and Feferi seemed like a light in the dark for him."

At this, John sits up straight, shrugging you off of him. You follow suit, blinking in surprise. "His wife was murdered?" John asks, surprise in his voice. He turns to you, seeming more confused by your responding nod. "But- that doesn't make any sense." He frowns deeply. "Karkat told me that Sollux's wife died in childbirth. I think her name was Aradia or something, right?"

You nod slowly, but now you're feeling very confused, too. "Well, it is," you acknowledge, "but his wife was definitely murdered. It was a huge scandal - the king's adviser having his wife killed in broad daylight? Sollux spent years trying to track down her killers before giving up. They were newlyweds when it happened - I don't think that childbirth was a huge concern for Aradia at the time."

Rather than helping, your explanation only seems to confuse John more. "Wouldn't I have heard about that, though?" He asks after a moment. "You said that it was a huge scandal. Normally, that stuff spreads like wildfire." He points out.

"Well, my dad wanted to keep it quiet." You shrug. "It was a big deal inside of the castle, but we weren't allowed to discuss it with anyone outside of the walls. Aradia wasn't a public figurehead, so the only one who seemed to notice that she was gone was Sollux." You click your tongue in disappointment. "I feel really bad for him - all he wanted was to find the assassin group that had murdered her, and my dad wouldn't spare the resources. I don't think that he ever found them."

And, all at once, the confusion is knocked from John's face as a look of understanding takes hold of his features. "Dave," he breathes, "what if… what if the  _Condesce_  was the one who had Aradia killed?"

* * *

"Hey." Someone nudges you in the side, purposeful but not cruel. "Hey, wake up. It's time to get ready."

Blinking hazily, you rub the sleep out of your eyes, looking up at who's nudging you with their foot. You aren't surprised to see Sollux standing there, a pair of metal cuffs clasped in his hands. Your gaze slides over to John, who is already standing and has his hands clasped behind his back. He looks unhurt, looking down at you with an expression you can't read while he waits for you to get up.

You push yourself up, brushing your clothes off before you put your hands behind your back for Sollux to lock them together. "Get ready?" You ask, trying to twist your head around to look at him while he works on tightening the chains so you don't have very much reach. "What, I have to get ready to die?"

With a little shrug, Sollux takes a spare length of chain to lock your cuffs together with John's. "Look, I agree with you, okay? I think that this is all just bullshit. She likes to make a display, I guess. Makes her feel good about herself or some shit." He huffs in irritation. "Anyway, I don't decide how the execution goes, so my opinion doesn't matter. But she's going to explain the whole thing to you when you get down there, so don't bother asking me. The only thing I'm sure of is that it's going to be over-complicated and needlessly tedious." He finishes with the chain, stepping in front of you and John. He grabs the middle of it, and starts walking, tugging the two of you along behind him awkwardly.

You have to quicken your steps to keep up with his long strides. It would be nice if you were afforded the opportunity to talk to John, but every time you start to say something, Sollux cuts you off, so after long enough, you just give up.

He takes the two of you down the plush hallway, leading you past floor after floor after floor, the view from the windows getting closer to the ground until the windows stop completely, and you know that you're on the ground floor. There, he stops leading you along the spiral staircase and leads you off down a branching corridor.

You aren't sure where you're going, or why, but after a tense few minutes slowly comes and goes, he stops outside of a heavy-looking door. "Well, this is where I separate you." Sollux informs you, unlocking John from your side and opening the door. He doesn't wait to tell you what to do. Instead, he puts a hand on John's shoulder and shoves him inside. You think that you hear the lock click behind you as you're lead away again, but you can't be sure. It drives you mad - thinking about what could be going on behind that door. You hope that, whatever it is, it's at least survivable.

"W-Why isn't John coming with us?" You ask Sollux, hurrying up to be walking along beside him instead of three paces behind. You try to keep the worry out of your voice when you ask, but you can tell from the look he gives you that you weren't very successful.

Sollux rolls his eyes, exasperated, and sighs. "He's not important except to keep you in the mood to listen." He says, sounding so bored that you wonder how many times the Condesce has repeated this to him.

Regardless, his answer isn't satisfying. "He's not being hurt, is he?" You bite your lip nervously, and this time, the look that Sollux gives you is more of a glare. Funny. As a man who is going to be married soon, you would expect for him to be more sympathetic towards your situation. You doubt that he would be very happy if Feferi was put in chains and torn away from him.

"He won't be hurt unless the Condesce has to do something to keep you in check." He explains. "So, just do what she says, and only you will be killed. Your friends will all be fine, and unharmed when today is over."

You turn your head to look at him fully, an expression of disgust creasing your features. "You know that this is sick, don't you?" You ask. He doesn't respond - or even acknowledge you. "You're consciously throwing away countless lives by helping her, Sollux. Why are you doing all of this?" Still, no response. You lick your lips, thinking, and then say, "You know, Aradia wouldn't want to see you like this."

 _That_ gets a reaction from him. At the sound of her name, Sollux stiffens, faltering mid-step. You think, for one foolishly hopeful, fleeting moment, that you might have gotten through to him. And then Sollux yanks on your chains, hard, and you stumble. His expression of surprise morphs to one of contempt, hardened as he wraps up all of his vulnerabilities and buries them. "The desires of a ghost are irrelevant." He tells you in a thick voice, stopping suddenly outside of a door that looks identical to the one he shoved John through.

Without another word, he practically rips your cuffs off, and opens the door, shoving you inside and slamming it harshly behind you.

Whatever you were just thinking about is quickly forgotten, as the Condesce yet again takes you by surprise.

You were expecting some sort of torture chamber if you're being honest. Perhaps a place where you would be slowly and gruelingly punished and cut into for hours and days, until the Condesce finally allowed you to die. You had envisioned a small, dark, and damp room where the air would be so thick with the smell of death that breathing pained you.

"Your Highness, welcome!" A pretty girl, about your age, bows deeply, a smile on her heart-shaped face. You don't think she knows what the Condesce is planning - she looks completely pleased to be here, helping you. "My name is Oriana - I'm going to be helping you bathe and get cleaned up for the ceremony and presentation to the public."

Before you can ask what all of that means, she already has a firm grip on your arm, leading you deeper into the quaint room. The lighting is soft, coming from low-burning candles that circle the room close to the ceiling, out of reach. Small pieces of quartz and other gems are embedded in the stone wall, making the entire room sparkle and shimmer, appearing much brighter than it actually is. It's warm in here, too, with small fires burning in the corners that give you a homey feeling. However, the main focus of the room is at the very center. Raised off of the ground on a circular, stone platform is a large, gilded tub. It's made of white porcelain, with golden claws holding it off of the ground. Steam rolls out of it, and you notice then that it's been filled nearly to the brim with warm water.

You turn to the girl helping you- Oriana, she said, right? You frown. "What… is all of this for?" You ask, for the first time completely unsure what sort of answer you're going to get.

She turns a faint shade of pink and looks away from you. "If his majesty wishes, I will not look while you disrobe. However, I have been instructed to provide you with… a very thorough clean - orders given directly by My Lady. I hope that this room is warm enough for you and that the bath is to your liking."

You don't see a way to refuse. Conveniently enough, the hallways on the way down here had been empty, something that you only considered just now. Evidently, the Condesce has neglected to inform her staff that you are here against your will.

True to her word, Oriana turns her back while you strip down, leaving your filthy clothes in a pile on the floor. You slip into the bathtub, and let out an audible sigh at the feeling of the steaming water on your skin. You can't believe how much you missed the feeling of a warm bath - it's so trivial, but also incredibly relaxing. You feel a little bit bad for partaking in a comforting bath while your friends are being hurt and manhandled, but the thought is quickly pushed from your mind.

Oriana gives you a very,  _very_ thorough clean. It's a bit embarrassing, really, even for someone who has been washed by staff for most of his life. At the end of it, she produces a towel for you to dry off with and turns her back again while you step out. There is also a handsome set of ropes for you to wear, you assume for this "ceremony" that she mentioned earlier in passing.

The outfit utterly stinks of wealth and power, and you know without needing a mirror that you must look exactly like the sort of king that the Condesce wants to show you as. Once you're dressed in rich, purple robes and so many furs that you're suffocating, Oriana brushes your hair out and spends ten minutes parting your bangs just-so.

"The crown will be presented at the ceremony, in front of the entire kingdom." She tells you, sounding excited. "It has been a long and lonely time without you, Highness. My Lady is a fine ruler, but the people have sorely missed their rightful king."

You blink in surprise, startled. "I- I didn't realize that I was… in Derse." You admit, being careful with your words. You want to try and keep Oriana friendly and on your side. If she figures out the truth, she might not tell you all that you want to know.

"You aren't." Oriana frowns, confused. "This is the kingdom of Viel, and the location of My Lady's main castle. She has several, but this is her favorite, and the place that she calls "home"." She beams, seeming very pleased by this little fact. "After your coronation ceremony, she has been kind enough to arrange for a regal procession to take you home. She thought, though, that the coronation should happen as soon as possible to quell the country, and the trip is a long one. I hope that you'll pardon not being crowned in your own castle."

That makes sense - at least somewhat. Damn, you traveled further than you originally thought. "No, it's alright." You reply. "I don't mind. Um- does this mean that we're finished in here? Is the coronation soon?" You ask her.

"Oh!" Oriana jerks, looking alarmed. "Oh, of course! I hope we're not late!" She doesn't hesitate to grab your wrist and lead you out the door, which you find a bit odd. She has amazing manners, even for a servant. You would think that she would know better than to touch members of the royal family. Still, she's clearly in a hurry, and you don't give a damn anyway, so you let her lead you on.

This time around, you pass servants and guards aplenty, and when you do, they all stiffen and bow as deeply as they can, working around armor or armfuls of papers. You awkwardly go along with it, despite your discomfort. You were never very happy with the ridiculous amounts of respect afforded to you everywhere you walked. After all, you didn't really understand what it meant to be a prince. And, you suppose that you still don't, in a lot of ways.

"Here's where I leave you, your majesty." Oriana says a little breathlessly, dropping your hand outside of a set of double oak doors. They look noticeably nicer than the other ones in the adjacent hallway, polished and positively gleaming. "I'll be watching the coronation. I- I'm so happy that we have you back." She looks a little bit like she wants to hug you, but she must decide against it, and a moment later, she turns on her heel, hurrying away from you.

You stand there for a moment, frowning at the door handle. What would happen, you wonder, if you just didn't go inside? If you left? Would the guards even let you? It's a stupid thought to entertain - you aren't going anywhere without your friends. If you walk out now, there's no telling what the Condesce might do to them. And you know with absolute certainty that the bulk of her frustrations will be inflicted upon Karkat.

You sigh, and push open the door. You blink against the sudden bright light, frowning as you raise a hand to block it out. You think that this is some sort of extra courtyard. The walls around you go up four stories, only to stop there with an overhang that must hold more room on the higher levels. You aren't entirely sure what you're doing here. Especially because, directly in front of you, the entire space empties out over the top of a rolling hill. At the bottom, you can see thatched houses and cozy cottages, no doubt the beginnings of a town. It would be far too easy for you to run, but the Condesce seems to be five steps ahead of you, because before you can so much as  _think_ about taking a step forward, applause fills the air, echoing off of the walls around you and amplifying.

You squint at the people surrounding you, but you can't see any sarcasm or malice on their faces. Like Oriana, they must be genuinely glad to see you. You can't imagine why - you aren't  _their_ king or anything, but maybe people shit themselves over any member of a royal family. It might just be because you were missing, and their oh-so "lovely" and "benevolent" "Lady" was the one to find you.

And, speaking of which…

The crowd parts like the sea to make way for the Condesce, looking as… shiny as ever. It seems like she's pulled out all of the stops for this occasion - her dress is so covered with gold and precious gems that it takes you a moment to discern the actual color of the fabric. And, it's fuchsia. Shocker.

"Highness!" The Condesce crows, sounding a bit like a hyena as she approaches you with her arms out, beaming as though greeting a long-time friend. You would honestly rather take an arrow in the knee than hug her, but when you step back, you hit the wall, and the next moment, the Condesce has you enveloped in a rather painful hug. You think that she wore the dress just so that it would dig into your skin when you hugged. "I'm so glad to see that you've enjoyed the bath, and I hope that the complimentary robes are to your liking. Don't worry about returning them - they're for you!" She laughs, an unpleasant cackle that makes you wince.

Before you can pull away from her, she puts an arm around your shoulders, leading you along with a faux exterior of relaxation, though her hold on you is stronger than iron. She leads you closer to the large exit, passing groups of people and waving, occasionally providing feedback. You quickly discover that this is some sort of procession you're being forced to take part in. Is she really going to crown you in front of the entire town? You know that there are "extenuating circumstances," but still. Traditionally, the future ruler is crowded in his own throne room, surrounded by delegates and other noblemen. What she's doing is horribly improper. But, you keep these thoughts to yourself. You can't imagine that there's any way to make her cancel the plans, anyway - not when she's already so far along.

You're lead forward, to a palanquin so large that you have a hard time believing that anything short of a group of horses could pull it. Like most everything the Condesce owns, it's golden, shimmering in the light. "Let me get you situated, highness." She says with false sweetness, taking hold of your upper arm and leading you up the steps. The palanquin has two seats and, unsurprisingly, she selects the bigger of the two for herself, and yanks you down into the smaller one. Here, the palanquin's silken curtains block you from the view of the working crowd around you, and the thickness of the gold making up the body blocks out most of the sound, until it's a dull hubbub in the back of your mind.

The Condesce's smile fades, and she fixes you with a stern glare, like a mother reprimanding a child. "Alr'ght." She remarks, dropping the formality that she used before, to address you as casually as one might a peasant. "Gonna lay out some rules,  _highness_." She rolls her eyes. "You're gonna keep ya little ass planted right in that spot. If ya try to move or stand, one o' your friends gets shot. I dunno which one- I grabbed four more o' 'em before I went to bed. I dunno 'em, and I don't need to, either. You'll listen, or they'll all suffer." She looks around to make sure that no one is eavesdropping, and then continues. "Obviously, this is all leadin' towards your death. It's gonna be a huge propaganda scheme - the prince, murdered durin' his coronation ceremony by the son o' the "rebellion's" leader. Oh, I doubt I'll have to worry about the Disciple again - people'll be goin' after her with pitchforks and knives for fun by the time I'm done, and I'll make myself ruler of Derse, since there's  _clearly_ no one more fit to rule." She states, so smug that it hurts to listen to.

You grimace, looking away from her with a glare. "Fine." You say through clenched teeth. "Let Karkat kill me. I won't fight you, but- when this is all over, just let him and all of my friends go." You ask, trying to keep the note of desperation out of your voice.

"Mm. How… noble." The Condesce remarks dryly. "I'd love ta let 'em go, Dave, but you know how the people are gonna be." She shrugs. "He'll have to be hung in the square for his crimes against the crown. It's unfortunate, I know, but it can't be helped." She clicks her tongue, as if actually disappointed.

You gape at her, disgusted and shocked by her complete dismissal of Karkat's life, and you're about two seconds from strangling her when you're interrupted.

"My most radiant and kind Lady," Sollux begins, bowing deeply in front of the Condesce and completely ignoring you, "the procession is ready to leave. All on your command." Two guards hurry up the stairs after him, positioning themselves on either side of the two thrones at the top. You aren't sure if they're there to keep you in place, or to protect the Condesce.

With a dismissive wave, the Condesce nods. "Begin." She says curtly. She and Sollux are acting as if they don't even know each other, but then, that's probably what the Condesce wants them to think. She also wants her people to think that she's doing you a favor by staging this whole thing. It's nothing more than a propaganda stunt - a way to make a mockery of your death and your importance, and ensure that everyone sees it.

You clench your teeth against the urge to lash out as Sollux hurries away. You heard what she said earlier - if you put one toe out of line, your friends are as good as dead. You've stopped valuing your own life. If you  _must_ die, then you want to do it alone. You don't want anyone else to be hurt over the clusterfuck  _you_ set into motion.

Karkat is a casualty that you can't control. You wonder if he'll be happy in the afterlife. You wonder if you'll get to be with him, or if you're going to Hell for doing this to your friends.

The palanquin lurches into motion beneath you, and it appears that your previous assumption was right. The whole thing is set upon massive wheels, and in front of you, no less than eight horses are pulling you forward. They're obviously the Condesce's finest, with coal black coats that have been brushed until they shine, and muscles bigger than the width of your body. They're huge, and as a group, they pull the palanquin without effort.

You aren't sure what's marching behind you, but you assume that it's other nobles of importance. Generals and strategists and philanthropists and probably a good chunk of the Condesce's personal guard.

You're marched into town like that, on display for everyone to see. It makes you feel like you're being lead to the gallows, though you're the only one that seems to realize it. The people weep at the sight of you, or smile and laugh and throw bouquets of flowers onto the palanquin's steps.

You can't enjoy any of it. Not the music, or the festivities, or even the jubilation that your mere presence seems to bring these people. You're being marched to your death, while at the same time being honored like a great war hero. You examine the fine robes hiding your bare skin and laminate how unfortunate it is that you're going to be ruining such handsome material by staining it with your blood.

The trip to the town center seems to take forever and no time at all. You blink, and then suddenly your palanquin is stopping, but in the instant you blinked, an eternity passed. You have to come to terms with a lot of things, very quickly.

You wish that you had told Rose that you love her - and that you had told Kanaya to ask your sister out, despite the oddity their genders presented. You wanted to joke with Terezi, and learn to forgive Sollux, and thank Vriska for her help, even if she was an ass most of the time. You wanted to hug Nepeta, and tell her that things will be okay, and that you understand, and you wanted to kiss John again - just to convince yourself that you're over it - and thank him for always being there.

And, you wish that you could have held Karkat, and apologized for getting him into this mess. He would have threaded his hands through your hair, and told you to shut up before he kissed you, and you would pass the night holding him close, kissing until you were dizzy and you couldn't breathe without his skin pressed to yours…

"My subjects!" The Condesce cries in a booming voice, and immediately, all of the chatter from the townsfolk before dies away, and they stare up at her and you, expectant. "I have brought, from the brink of death, the rightful ruler of Derse!" She gestures to you, and the noise swells to impressive new levels.

People scream your name and cheer for your country -your birthright. You scan the crowd, looking for a familiar head of messy, black curls. You don't know what Karkat is going to be wearing, but you look for him in the shadows. You just want to see his face, one last time, before everything goes black.

"Today, we will celebrate the prince, and the entire country of Derse, with the most inclusive coronation to date!" The Condesce continues, and the people cheer and clap. She doesn't say anything for two entire minutes, as long as it takes for them to be silent, a content smile on her face that sends chills down your spine. "We're doing this because his rediscovery isn't just a gift for the kingdom of Derse! This is a treasure for everyone, man, woman, child, regardless of wealth!" More cheering. You think that you're going partly deaf because of it, but maybe the ringing in your ears is from something else. "Prince Dave?" The Condesce offers you her hand.

You feel like you're going to throw up if you try standing. Still, you reach forward and take hold of her horrible, bony claw, letting her pull you to your feet and forward, standing out in the open on the palanquin. From here, everyone can see you. You wonder if she's going to have Karkat shoot you with a bow. You don't think that Karkat can shoot an arrow, but then again, there's a lot of things that you don't know about Karkat.

You look out over the sea of faces, unsure what you're supposed to be doing. Are you supposed to give a speech? You don't even know how you feel right now, let alone how to fool an entire city into believing that you're perfectly at ease with being here.

But rather than letting you speak, the Condesce gestures to her other side, where Sollux is already at the top of the palanquin's steps. There's a jeweled, oak box clutched in his hands, and as he opens it, a hush falls over the crowd. You know what's going to be inside of it, but your breath still catches in your throat at the sight of your father's crown encased within its velvet-padded hold.

The Condesce dips her hands into the box to remove it almost tenderly, and you have to literally bite your tongue to keep from shouting out your protests at the action. You don't want her touching anything even remotely reminding you of your father. He's gone, and you don't want  _her_ tainting your already blurred perspective of your dad. You just want to find a way to appreciate what memories of him that you actually have.

"By placing this crown on his head," The Condesce calls out over the crowd, lifting your birthright high above her head for all to see, the light glinting off of the diamonds and rubies embedded in the gold material, "I crown his royal highness, Dave Elizabeth Strider, not only as the king of Derse, but also as the bringer of a new way of life!" What this new way of life is, you aren't sure, but the people ate it up as though they're starving, and her words are the only food they've had in weeks. She seems perfectly relaxed with thousands of eyes upon her, smiling and basking in the glory of their praise. She looks at you out of the corner of her eye, and you know that this is it. She's going to put this crown on your head, and then you're going to drop dead.

You want to close your eyes, but you force them open, searching the crowd almost frantically for Karkat. This is it - it's all ending here. You can feel the Condesce moving at your side, and hear the rustle of her dress as she lowers the crown of your head.

And that's when you finally spot him.

Karkat is right at the foot of the palanquin, shaking like a leaf. His skin looks more like parchment, he's so pale and pasty, and while the cloak he's wearing is the same one he had when you first met, it barely fits him now, hanging off of his thin shoulders and skinny frame such that he's practically drowning in it. The sight sends a shot of fear through you, even as you watch him close his eyes and pull two sickle from their sheathes at his side.

You know that you should move, but your feet are stuck to the ground. You feel hammered into place, and you can't move, you can't breathe, can't even  _think_. The heavy weight of the crown settles on your head, and dimly, you register the Condesce's voice and the shouting of the crowd. People are saying things, voice all around you, but you can't make out anything through all of the  _noise_. It's all too much. The colors, the light, the sounds. It's all blurred together, and you don't see anything except a mess of shapes and hues. Through the chaos, there's a flash of metal in the sun, and you know that this is it. You're about to die. Karkat is going to finish the job that he should have done the first time around, and you're going to bleed out for all to see. And for completing his job, he's going to be hung.

Something knocks into you, but instead of the finishing blow you were expecting from the front, it hits you from the right. You hit the floor with a hard, metal body hovering over you, and you hear the responding shouts of fear from the crowd just as a blade dents the armor of the warrior above you.

"What-?" You try, but your tongue feels heavy and swollen in your mouth, as though it doesn't belong there. Did you bite yourself when you hit the ground? Or is the copper taste in your mouth just a result of the rough rescue? Your thoughts feel as jumbled as your vision. The metal above you is lifted, as whoever knocked you aside gets to their feet.

"What are you doing? Get up!" A surprisingly female voice snaps at you, turning to face the crowd. She must have been one of the guards protecting you, because the other guard is now drawing his sword.

The element of surprise is fading, and fast. Karkat seems unsure what to do now, his sickle clasped loosely in his limp hold. The Condesce, though, has no such doubts about her goals. "Get him!" She shouts, pointing at the guard who rescued you. "He's going to get away with the king!"

The guard with you has a sword in hand, swiping at the other guard before turning to you. "Run!" She shouts, giving you a hard shove. You want to ask where you're supposed to go, but then your sights fall on what lies behind the curtains. Small, narrow steps are carved into the back of the palanquin, for moments like this, you assume. Sometimes, a ruler has to make an escape.

You do as you're told, taking the steps three at a time. The stupid robe you're wearing is just making you sweat, and it's dragging you down as it billows out behind you, so you shuck it off and drop it to the ground. Under it, you're still only wearing a silk blouse and stupid, too-tight pants, but you feel like you can breathe again, so you don't complain. You keep running, past shattered golden crown on the pavement, past the musicians who had marched with you, and past the bewildered generals and nobles. You don't stop when you hear shouts of alarm or pursuing footsteps. There's a stitch in your side that you work to ignore, pounding along the cobblestone streets and in between buildings and around corners, until you have no idea where you are. Everything is a jumble of buildings and cobblestone and sky, and the sounds of the rushing crowd had long since faded into the background. You don't know where you're going, but you're exhausted. You can't keep running.

You stumble, leaning against a wall for support, and crumble to your knees, panting and out of breath. It hurts to suck in air, but you force yourself to because you know that you need it if you're going to keep running.

You wipe the sweat from your brow, swallowing back bile before forcing yourself to our feet once more.

Your mind is clear now, and you don't take off running down the first path you see this time. You focus, trying to remember the layout of the capital city of Veil. Your father drilled those stupid maps into your head over and over, and while you're sure that you won't remember one unimportant little alleyway, you can at least get a good, general idea of what direction to head in that takes you out of town and away from the Condesce. You can't remember if it was Vriska or Terezi under that armor, but you have to make sure that they're alright, too, before you-

With a jolt, you turn on your heel, panic gripping you so tightly that you're out of breath all over again. Fuck. Mother of  _fucking_ God. You can't  _believe_ how stupid you are! You just  _left_ the Condesce there with your friends, and she has plenty more of the people you love back at her castle, and- and Karkat…

God, you've made a horrible mistake. You want to go back, but you can't just walk back into her arms, ready to die. You need a  _plan_. You need something up your sleeve, something you can use…

You close your eyes, leaning against the brick wall, and try to think of a good idea. This is all a game, isn't it? From her perspective, anyway. It's like chess. You're the white king, and while you had all of your pawns stripped away, and your queen is being held captive, the game isn't over yet. As long as there is still one piece on the board, you have a chance. You still have bishops, and knights, and castles, though. The black queen may have an entire matrix of pawns willing to die for her, but all you need is your friends. That, and a way to get Sollux alone.


	36. Are You Afraid?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How long will you play this game?  
> Will you fight or will you walk away?  
> How long will you let it burn?  
> Let it burn.

The town seems to have been mostly abandoned during the festivities. You don't have any complaints, except for how eerie the town is without anyone doing work. On the plus side, you do get some time to stage your death.

You grab a hunk of beef from an abandoned butcher's stand and find a sickle at a stand that sells weaponry. It's not going to be a very well done job, but it should hold people off at least a little bit. You "borrow" some clothes that someone had hung up to dry on a clothesline, changing quickly so that you don't have to be naked out in the open for too long. You cut the piece of meat open, staining your fine clothes with blood before tugging the shirt on over the meat. You stuff the legs of your pants with hay. It doesn't have to be perfect - it just has to be convincing from a distance. Once the people find this, they won't touch it. They'll drag the Condesce out here to make sure that the prince is really dead, and that buys you valuable time.

You drag a box over to where you're head should be, spearing the spot with blood to make it look like your head was crushed. You can't do much about the hands and wrists, but hopefully, no one looks too hard.

You're putting a lot of faith into these fragile "hopes," and you can't help but feel like it's a bad omen.

But there's nothing you can do now, except pray. For the finishing touch, you stab your fake body with the sickle, leaving a rather grisly sight in the middle of the street. After this, you're worried that rumors are going to get ahead of you. Assuming that you get back to Derse to continue your parent's rule, your people might start to worship you as a god after coming back from the dead twice. Still, that's a problem for another time.

You study your reflection in a dirty mirror, and use mud to darken your hair. There isn't much that you can do about your eyes, except try not to make eye-contact with anyone. From a distance, it should be impossible to discern you from the rest of the peasants in a crowd.

You take to the alley's again, and while you don't know your way around here, you can still follow the path of money. The further you go on, buildings get nicer and further apart, and the gravel paths become smooth cobblestone. This, you know after a lifetime of living in a castle, is a blatant stamp of wealth. You aren't sure why rich people feel the need to brag. Sure, nice things are, well,  _nice_ , but the marble pillars when stone works just as well, and the meticulously maintained streets that they don't use anyway, are all very unnecessary to you. Aren't there better ways to spend money?

But you aren't here to think about the way nobles are spending their gold. You hurry past the fine houses, heading uphill. There is a road, but you would stick out like a sore thumb on it. A simple peasant, taking the road up to the castle all by himself? Because that isn't suspicious  _at all_ , is it? You keep to the grass and the trees, stopping and holding absolutely still when people walk by.

Mostly, it's guards. You suppose that they're looking for you, because there are plenty of couriers huffing and puffing their way up the hillside, too. You feel a bit back about having to put them through so much work, but you know that they're made for it. It's their job, so you do your best to ignore whoever is coming up the hill with you.

At the top of the hill, the Condesce's palanquin is in disarray. It isn't broken, but rather, left haphazardly at the top of the path, it's curtains torn and lying over the grass. You assume that the Condesce is here, then, and she must have your friends somewhere… And now that they've made a scene in front of the town and the guards, she has no reason to be even remotely decent to Karkat, or your rescuer.

She has to have them here - you know that she must, because leaving prisoners out in a busy and panicked courtyard where they can find a way to get away isn't a very smart idea. No, she has dungeons for that. You ponder the building in front of you, wondering how you're going to get in. If the Condesce is here, then Sollux must be, too. And you need to talk to him, but what should you prioritize? Him, or your friends? It's a… predicament. You feel confused, and you really wish that you had Karkat here to give you some advice, and tell you what to do.

What would Karkat do in this situation? You know that he would want to go after Sollux, but you also know that he would want to see you safe and alive. Logic would tell him to go after Sollux, but Karkat is a very emotional and sensory person, whether he likes it or not. He would go for you. It's only right for you to extend the same courtesy.

You scan for a way in, and spot a group of common people - servants? - entering the castle together. You aren't sure what their job is, or why they need to be in the castle when the Condesce probably has everyone looking for you, but you don't care. You use the bushes and trees around the perimeter as a cover, and stick yourself to the back of the crowd, keeping your head down. As long as you don't look at them, it should be fine. You keep distance between you and the guards, your heart pounding in your throat with every step. This is a horrible idea, and you know it is, but you can't go back now.

It seems amazing that you get in without being stopped, but you try not to think about it too hard. If you do, you know that your paranoia will convince you to go back. The servants in front of you head around the side of the castle, to a much smaller and less grand door, though it, likewise, is guarded. You keep in the back, and wait until they turn into the kitchen before you ease past them. You aren't sure what you should be doing. Do you sneak around every corner, or do you walk normally and try to act as though you have something to be doing? And how do servants walk, anyway? You doubt that their mom would walk next to them with a stick against their spine so that they kept their back straight.

You slouch your back a little bit, and frown as you try to remember how your servants always walked. You never really paid too much attention to small details like that, but you wish that you had. You ponder, for a moment, where the Condesce would have your friends. You want to find that room where Sollux dropped off John, but you have no idea where that room could be, or even where you are.

"You've gotta be  _fuckin'_ kiddin' me!" The Condesce's voice reaches your ears, and you freeze. The other servant in the hallway does the same, and he quickly looks at the ground and hurries on away from the noise, quickly going out of sight. You only wish that you could do the same.

Instead, you fight against the clench of fear in your gut and move closer to the open doorway. It's oak, and the splinters of wood on the floor tell you that the Condesce slammed it hard enough to break it. You feel a shudder of fear roll down your spine, and try not to think about how she could easily snap  _that_ , too, while you put your eye up to the crack to peer into the room.

The room itself is completely bare - you aren't sure what it's good for. Besides holding people, you suppose, because that's currently what the Condesce is using it for. What you really care about, though, is the fact that Karkat and Sollux are both there. Whereas Sollux looks bored, though, slouching against the far wall, Karkat looks absolutely terrified, looking at the floor instead of at your friends. You relax a little bit - the Condesce didn't get all of them. She has Jade, Nepeta, John, and Vriska, wearing a suit of armor with the helmet tossed on the other side of the room. She must have been the one who rescued you, then. She's had ropes wrapped all around her body, keeping her tightly bound, whereas your other friends only have their wrists roped.

The Condesce grabs Vriska by the hair, knotting her twisted fingers between the strands to get a good, firm hold on a handful of black hair, and yanking her up and off of the ground. From this position, you can see that her one good eye has a large bruise circling it, and her lip is busted, with dried blood caked on her face. "Where is he?" She snarls at Vriska, though all the Condesce gets in response is a blank stare.

Giving a growl of frustration, she drops Vriska to the ground again, giving her a wicked kick to the jaw that makes you wince. "One of y'all's gonna talk." She hisses. "I don't care which one o' ya does, but if any of ya give me wrong information, I'll have ya hollowed out and stuffed." She turns to Karkat, and he keeps his eyes pointedly on the ground, refusing to look at her. With a swaying walk that reminds you strongly of a snake, the Condesce approaches him. Her hand cups his cheek, causing Karkat to wince, but he stays rooted to the spot. "Karkat." She cooes. "You don't wanna be hurt, do ya? All you have to do is tell me where your loverboy is. Do ya know? Ya must have some idea… otherwise, I might have to spend the time it takes to find them by hurtin' one of your friends…"

Karkat glances up at her and takes a deep breath. Her grin widens. "I don't know where he is." Karkat says quietly, and then his passive look turns to a glare as he looks up at her. "And if I did, I wouldn't tell you about it."

The resulting slap sings through the air, and you clench your teeth as Karkat stumbles back from the force of it. It doesn't send him to the ground, but you notice him none-too-subtly leaning against the wall to support himself before he straightens back up. Wisely, he doesn't say anything more, reaching up with his bound hands to rub the tender and bruised area before dropping them.

"My, my." The Condesce's voice is barely louder than a whisper, but the room is so silent that you barely have to try to hear it. She turns her back to Karkat, observing everyone else in the room. "So, y'all're all loyal to him, then?" She purses her lips, while no one in the room meets her sweeping gaze. No one, aside from Sollux, who matches her eyes with such an intensity that it catches you off guard.

You can tell that the Condesce is furious, but she merely makes a little "hmph" noise. "Very well." She says quietly. You think that she's going to give up, but you're wrong. With a movement so fast that you can't even track it with your eyes, the Condesce's hand lashes out, grabbing John by the hair and yanking him away from the wall. You notice that his armor has been removed, and the clothes he's wearing instead are, at least, somewhat nice. Nice enough that there aren't any holes in it, anyway. This hardly makes you like the Condesce anymore, though, especially not when she pulls out a dagger and holds it over his heart. "No torture games anymore." She says, baring her teeth in a large smile as she glances over at Karkat. He shrinks away from her, though his gaze never once leaves John. "One o' ya betta fess up, or this is plunged in. He won't feel it - much - but I doubt that any of ya'd be very happy holding his corpse." Her grip tightens, and John bites his lip. You think this is to keep himself quiet, because you notice the red seeping through his shirt front, and that does something funny to your head.

John is about to die for you. And, you know that it isn't quite the painless death that the Condesce is painting it as. It's going to be slow, while he bleeds out and drowns in his own blood. You will have to watch. You're about to watch your best friend die.

You would say that your life flashes before your eyes, but that's not quite what happens. It's more like…  _John_ flashes before your eyes. You see the day you met, the day he first started working at the bakery, and insisted that you be there with him. The day that he first mentioned crushing on a girl his age who used to come to get bread, and you remember the resounding twitch of jealousy in your gut… You remember holding his hand, and the brief moment you got to enjoy the feeling of his lips, and you remember wishing that he had slapped you, because his words of disappointment hurt far, far more than any blow.

In the split second that it takes to flash through your memories, your experiences, you make a decision and react.

You slam the door open, the crack of it hitting the wall loud enough that even the Condesce jumps, caught off guard. But you aren't going for her. You curl your hand into a fist, and slam it into Sollux's jaw hard enough that he hits the wall, and then the ground as his skull rebounds off of the stone with a sickening  _crack_. There's blood in his hair, but you don't give a damn. You grab the dagger tucked into his boot, the handle sticking out obviously enough that you don't have trouble locating it. "Stay there." You tell him. There isn't any anger in your voice - rather, you sound cold and indifferent. You sound like your father, enough that all Sollux does is blink up at you with wide eyes. But he doesn't try to get up, staying dazed on the floor, and that's what you care about.

No one in the room really seems to understand what to do about your sudden appearance. Karkat isn't looking at you, but you don't hold it against him.

You grab Sollux's collar, hefting him to his feet, though you keep him still by pressing the dagger to his neck. By this point, you aren't sure if you could kill him or not, and uncertainty is a very dangerous and unstable emotion for you to be feeling in a situation like this.

"Let John go." You say in a hoarse voice, directing your attention to the Condesce this time.

She narrows her eyes at the command, gauging your willingness to continue with the plan that you are obviously pulling out of your ass. She seems to be considering how much she values Sollux's life, weighing that against the edge she has so long as the blade is near John's heart. Ultimately, the value that her daughter's fiancé has must win out, because she sighs as though you've interrupted a great game, and releases her hold on John. You don't take your eyes off of the Condesce, or loosen your hold on Sollux. If anything, your grip tightens.

The Condesce scoffs, putting her hands on her hips as she turns to face you fully. " _Please_." She says with a drawl, rolling her eyes. "You have  _one_ leverage o'er me,  _Highness_ , and I have five o' your friends. All bound and useless, if your plan is to rally them ta fight." She sighs and takes a step towards you. You automatically take a step back, hitting the wall behind you, and the Condesce's grin only widens when she sees that you've cornered yourself. "C'mon, ya might as well just give up now." She teases, cooing at you like you're the most adorable things in the world. "This isn't gonna work, and ya know it. Why dontcha just put the dagger down before ya hurt yourself like a fool, and submit? I promise it'll be quick, just as a special treat."

You clench your jaw, mind racing, even as she talks about your death as easily as picking a flower. You say the first thing that comes to mind. "Is that what you did to Aradia, too?"

The reaction is instantaneous.

Karkat's head whips around so fast that you're worried he might have cracked something, and he's staring at you with eyes wide with disbelief, and you can tell that he thinks you're absolutely insane for bringing this up. In your hold, Sollux stiffens to the point that he feels more like a statue. The only person who doesn't seem to follow is the Condesce. Rather, she seems confused, frowning at you with an intrigued quirk to her mouth.

"Aradia?" She drawls slowly, tilting her head to the side like a confused toddler, though you know better than to be fooled by the charm she practically  _oozes_. "Nah, I can't say that I've e'er heard of her. Care to remind me?" She bats her eyelashes at you in a mockingly innocent way, though surprisingly, you aren't the one to speak up.

"Aradia," Sollux says with a fierceness, lurching forward in your hold, "was my  _wife_. I  _introduced_ you to her. She  _died_." He looks almost ready to kill her over this simple disrespect to his lost beloved, and you almost regret mentioning it. Except, this is what you need. You need to steal her knight to give yourself an edge in the game you're losing.

Luckily, though Karkat is still confused, John seems to catch on. "Didn't she die in childbirth?" He chimes in, a practiced look of puzzlement on his face.

"No!" Shouts Sollux, so loud and sudden that he doesn't even seem to realize himself that he's said it. He certainly doesn't pay John any attention, struggling against your hold to the point that the knife clumsily digging into his skin barely makes him flinch. "She was killed by a group of assassins - the pregnancy thing was just some bullshit I made up to make saps pity me. People trust a man who's grieving for a child." Karka opens his mouth like he wants to interject, looking offended (and holy shit, you are so glad that he's displaying an emotion other than obedience), but he doesn't get the chance. Sollux has gotten started, now, and he isn't stopping. "It was  _you_ , wasn't it?" He hisses. The hate in his eyes is such that you avoid looking at him, though the Condesce doesn't bat an eye. " _You killed her_!"

The Condesce merely purses her lips, observing you all with a cool indifference. She lets the question hang in the air - though, if this is due to hesitation, or the desire to create tension, you aren't sure. Then, finally, she gives a curt nod. "Yes." She hums.

You have to abruptly drop your knife, because Sollux pulls against you so hard that you would have slit his airway if you hadn't. You yank him back, hard, though he doesn't seem to care about your presence there. All of his attention is fueled into the Condesce, not that you blame him. " _Why_?" He snarls. "She didn't  _do_ anything! So, why would you kill her?  _Tell me_!"

In response, the Condesce shrugs, waving away his concerns offhandedly as she turns away. "A couple o' reasons." She yawns, playing up her boredom. She knows that she's getting under Sollux's skin, and she's playing up the death of his wife to really dig the blade in. You have never been more disgusted with another human being before in your life. "She… wasn't very  _pleased_ with you workin' for me, remember? She was such a sweet an' honest girl… didn't like you lyin' to the king for me, no matter how many lies I fed her about it being for "tha greater good," an' shit like that. And at the time, you an' Feferi had just recently met. Oh, she liked you almost immediately. Quite smitten, lemme tell ya, and  _so_ disappointed ta hear about your wife. I figured, as a mother, it was only right for me to help m' little girl be happy. You were already loyal to me after all the gold I gave ya to help you through a childhood with no parents - I thought that a marriage knot would be just "tha thing" to help keep ya motivated to listen to me."

Everything freezes.

The door behind you creaks open, just as the Condesce finishes - before Sollux can tear free from your hold to sink his nails into her eyes. Feferi stands on the threshold, a look of horror on her face, that's mirrored on Eridan's expression, who's standing behind her. As weird as his crush on her is, you know that he would never even  _dream_ of killing Sollux, no matter how much the news of the wedding must be tearing him up inside.

"We came to investigate the shouting." Feferi says in a lost voice, answering the unasked question of everyone in the room. She takes a step forward, practically not noticing everyone else as she focuses her gaze on her mom. "How could you?" She breathes. "I… I never wanted Sollux bad enough that I would have wished for his wife to die. All you did was… was make me the replacement..." Her voice threatens to break, and she blinks rapidly. You realize with a start that there are tears in her eyes.

For her part, the Condesce merely looks slightly more sympathetic than usual. "Fef, hun, don' be like that." She cooes, taking a step towards her daughter. "You know I love ya. I've been doin'  _everythin'_ for you. All o' the bad things are so you can have everythin' ya want. I'm droppin' crime rates and poverty and I'm keeping you smilin' every day." She smiles, and it confuses you as much as it seems to put Feferi on edge. It  _looks_ genuine, but… can the Condesce even feel genuine love for her daughter? Or anyone, anymore? "C'mere. Stop fussin' and come to ma, Fef."

She opens her arms wide, as though expecting Feferi to rush into her embrace. Instead, the young heiress takes a step back, at the same time that Eridan steps forward. He puts his hands on her shoulders, whispering something in her ear that you can't quite make out. Whatever it is, it seems to work, and she relaxes into his hold with a shaky sigh. Her gaze slips away from her mother, taking in Vriska, who's being propped up by Jade and Nepeta, and the ropes around their wrists. The way Karkat won't look at her, and how John has blood on his shirt. You're holding her future husband back by the neck, but even this doesn't seem to scare her as badly as the woman she once considered to be her mother.

"No." She whispers. "You're doing this for  _you_."

Two things happen at once.

The Condesce's eased expression morphs into a mask of rage, and you see hate spark in her eyes as she reaches behind her back. Her trident isn't in here, but you soon learn that she doesn't need one. Behind her, her fingers find what you assume is a purposefully loose strand, and a second later, her skirt is in tatters on the floor. Beneath it, you realize that the bodice of her dress was just that - one, lone bodice, and under the skirt, she had been wearing pants the whole time. And strapped to those pants, she has a sword sheathed. You aren't sure how she can hide a sword so large, but before you can start contemplating skirt thickness, she has the handle in her hold, and she's swinging it out, messily shoving it into Feferi.

Or, rather, where she  _was_.

Practice must be a work here, because the Condesce does all of this in a second, so fast that you barely recognize it happening until her sword makes sharp contact with the wooden door. Feferi looks on, understandably horrified. She would have been dead by her mother's hand, had Eridan not lashed out at the same time as the Condesce, and torn her daughter out of harm's way.

"You ungrateful, selfish  _bitch_!" The Condesce screeches, and her hair seems to snap from its careful up-do as her anger flairs. It's almost like a sentient being, fanning up around her head and making the already Amazonian woman appear larger than life, and menacing. She points the sword at Feferi, and her stance speaks volumes about how much time and energy she's put into learning how to use as many weapons as possible. "All your life, I've given you nothing but the best, and how do you repay me? With secrets and lies, and throwing away  _my_ money behind my back to try and "help" the poor, when all you're doing is giving them the means to indulge in the same  _fucking_ addiction that lost them all their money in the first place!"

She lunges forward, and the room breaks out into chaos.

You let go of Sollux, no longer interested in keeping him still, and he immediately goes to the aid of Feferi, as her mother loses any semblance of calm. You seek out Karkat, grabbing him by his bound wrists and yanking him over to your other friends - Vriska, John, Nepeta, and Jade - who are all still on the floor, ropes keeping them from fighting. You kneel down next to them, taking Karkat with you, and start cutting into the ropes. No one says anything, but the shouts from the other side of the room are practically deafening. From what you can tell, the Condesce has paused her jabs to enter a shouting match with Eridan, but you don't give it a lot of your attention. You cut Karkat's ropes first, then Nepeta's, and Jade's, and John's. You do Vriska last because she's stuck in a full-body bond, and sure enough, it takes you a while to cut them off. Your hands are sweating by this point, and you fumble and nick yourself more than once, but Vriska (thankfully) keeps her comments to herself. You don't think that you could concentrate if she was taunting you the way she usually does.

When you're done, you get to your feet, watching the family drama unfolding on the other side of the room. They're blocking the door, the only exit in the room, and you're helpful dagger suddenly feels minute and useless against the Condesce's sword.

" _Fine_!" She snaps, glaring at Feferi with hatred in her eyes. "I don't need ya, anyway! I'll have a thousand replacement heiresses lined up outside by tomorrow morning! Because that's clearly all you're good fair, huh, Fef? Just a disposable replacement for betta people." She sneers. Feferi doesn't meet her eyes, and with a tight chest, you understand how she feels. It's like when Karkat reminded you that this was all your fault. If you had just stayed in the castle like a good, obedient little prince, then none of this would have happened. Equius would still be alive…

To your surprise, Sollux is the one that comes to Feferi's defense, though you notice Eridan non-too-subtly dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. It seems a little absurd to do something like that at a time like this, but the look of fondness in his eyes makes you bite his tongue and focus back on Sollux.

"Don't talk to her like that!" He shouts indignantly. "You don't know  _anything_ about our relationship! In the years we've known each other, never  _once_ have you asked me or her how things were going! It's because  _you don't care_! You never did any of this for Feferi! All of this power was purely for yourself! I always knew that you would sell her for the chance at immortality, to be young and powerful for eternity, but I never thought that you could stoop low enough to do this over a petty  _disagreement_!" He's panting, breathing hard. You have a moment to admire how brave he must be, to finally say everything he's been thinking to the face of an angry woman with a sword, but then the moment is shattered.

"Sollux," the Condesce says quietly, her voice so frigid and empty that you sweat the temperature in the room drops, "I am… disappointed. You would have made a good son-in-law." And then, before anyone can think to stop her, she's driving her sword forward with force and speed that you can't track until it's too late.

There's a sickening, tearing sound, and the unmistakable crack of bones. You want to close your eyes, but you can't, watching in horror as the Condesce pulls her blood-soaked blade from Sollux's rib cage, and he crumbles to the ground and doesn't move. He doesn't twitch, or so much as breathe, his chest cut open and his eyes wide, but unseeing.

If the Condesce notices the look of complete and utter horror on her daughter's face, she doesn't say anything about it. She turns to you with a blank expression, and her gaze flickers over to Karkat. Whatever is going through her mind, she must decide that he isn't worth her notice for the time being, and takes a step towards you, raising her sword. "It could have been so clean." She sighs. "My assassin would have killed you, Dave, and with no one left to take the kingdom when they died, your parents would lose the throne and the honor of the family name. I, of course, would be the obvious choice for the replacement, especially when anyone else who was considered would die an unfortunate and  _terribly_  sudden death. It's your fault, you know - all of these unneeded deaths. You could have prevented them by simply bleeding out in your bed like you were supposed to. What kind of morally ranking king sits back and allows these people to kill themselves for him?" She clicks her tongue, as though disappointed. "So, Dave, what will it be? Are you going to stand there and appreciate the quick death I'm allowing you, or will you let someone throw themselves in front of you again?"

You tense up, frozen where you stand. She's baiting you again. You know that she is, and you hate it. You hate yourself even more for buying into it. She's right. You've caused your friends so much pain. You got an entire town burned down. You should have just died back in that tower. And, you haven't even done anything that warrants so much sacrifice. You look over the Condesce's shoulder and watch Feferi get to her knees and hold Sollux close, crying with silent heaves into his bloodied shoulder. The fact that she's ruining her dress doesn't seem to matter. Eridan has his hands on her shoulders, his lips pressed into a thin line as he observes the body with an emotion you can't quite place. He doesn't speak or make a single noise, simply letting Feferi sob. This is your fault, too. If it wasn't for you, Sollux and Feferi could have had a lovely wedding, and he wouldn't have had to lie to her so much. She wouldn't think of herself as a replacement, instead of the bride-to-be.

You blink rapidly when you notice your eyes stinging, and wish that you still had your shades. If there was ever a need to hide, now is it. You try to draw yourself to your full height, to appear intimidating, but you know without needing to see her smirk that the Condesce isn't fooled for a moment. She grins at you, and leans back into a crouched stance, bringing her sword up. This is it. You're going to die, and you're strangely okay with that. You know that you shouldn't be, but what's the use in resisting? All it's going to do is cause more death.

You go to take a step forward, closer to her and the blade you know that you can't escape, only for a hand to stop you. You look back, expecting to see Karkat, but instead, Nepeta is gripping your shirt, so tightly that her hand is shaking.

"What," she hisses, pulling herself into a standing position, "the  _fuck_ are you doing?" She glares at you, and you find it hard to believe that those vivid green eyes were dead and dull only a week ago. "Do you think that  _any_ of us came here today to watch you die?"

You frown at her, confused, and struggle for words. "But- But Equius-" You start, only to be cut off.

" _Equius_  loved the crown more than he loved  _breathing_." Nepeta says firmly, leaving no room for you to protest. "I know, as sure as I am that the sky is blue, that he would  _never_ want to see you accept defeat like this. You're better than this. You know you are."

Before you can decide how to feel about this, you are once again interrupted. "Well," the Condesce cuts in, faking a yawn, "as...  _touching_ as this all is, I believe that I have a goal to complete here." She tries to sound as though she couldn't care less, though the annoyance in her voice gives her away.

She raises her sword again, but you narrow your eyes, looking around for something better than a stupid dagger to use. And then your gaze falls on the perfect item. "Wait!" You shout, so sudden and so forceful that the Condesce falters mid-step towards you, and glares. But thankfully, she doesn't move any closer.

You think to give some sort of explanation for what you're about to do, but nothing comes to mind. You turn to Karkat, and grab him by the front of his cloak, dragging him forward and up against your body.

His hips are thin and bony in your hold, and his lips are chapped, but the feel of him is excruciatingly good, all the same. He fumbles for a moment, hands clenching against nothing at his sides, before he finally seems to figure out what's happening, and kisses you back. His hands find your shirt, and he holds on loosely to your collar, then tighter, as the kiss grows until it's borderline desperate.

You drop your dagger to kiss him harder, cupping Karkat's cheek with one hand and gripping his waist with the other. His skin feels thin, and his bones are sharp and far too well-defined, but you keep the concerns about his health to yourself and appreciate kissing  _Karkat_. No matter how much time you've spent apart, he's still the same person you trust with your life, and the man you love.

But you don't have enough time to tell him all of that right now.

You whirl away from him, and Karkat stumbles on his feet, dazed. You feel perfectly balanced, however, one of his sickles clasped in your hand. You figure that, in the heat of the moment, the Condesce bound his wrists and completely forgot about the sickles he keeps under his cloak. Though, you don't feel like being smug about her oversight.

The distance between you and her is closed in just three steps, and you drive the sickle up into her gut as hard as you can manage. She folds over your arm, and you feel something warm and wet over your fingers. Your relief is short-lived. You've never stabbed anyone before, but you know instinctively that this isn't enough blood. And the human body isn't supposed to feel so...  _solid_.

The next moment, stars flash in your eyes, and you stumble back, the sickle slipping from your fingers, coated with blood. The Condesce has her sword facing backward, the butt end of it facing you. You just barely step away in time to avoid getting your arm sliced off, and the Condesce howls with rage as her sword, swung like an axe, makes contact with the ground instead of you. "You miserable, terrible child!" She shrieks.

Where your sickle had hit her, you see that her dress is torn. However, instead of a hole where her intestines are supposed to be pouring through, the torn bodice reveals the steel chain armor she's wearing underneath. Blood covers it, but the cut you made is hardly fatal.

You scramble back, heart pounding, and whirl on your friends. " _Go_!" You shout at them.

"Dave, we aren't-" Vriska, of all people, starts to protest, but you don't want to hear it.

The Condesce's sword buries itself in the wall next to your head, and your patience snaps. " _Now_!" You scream. Finally, they obey. Vriska scrambles to her feet, and she's out the door with Nepeta hot on her heels. Jade grabs John and shoots one last glance at you before she's forcing him out of the room, too. Still, Karkat hasn't moved since you stopped kissing him. You step in close, and punch the Condesce in the jaw, sending her back with a stumble and a hiss of pain.

While she recovers, you grab Karkat by the shoulders, shaking him. "Karkat!" You shout. "Snap out of it! You have to  _go_!"

Your words seem to have some sort of effect, but not the one that you wanted. Karkat looks up at you, and your breath catches at the look in his eyes. "No, Dave, I have to-"

He tries to tell you something, but whatever it is, you don't get to hear the rest of it. You scream in agony as you're ripped away from Karkat, slammed into the wall carelessly.

Blood pours down your body, staining your stolen tunic and your pants, and you have to fight not to writhe from the pain. The Condesce stands in front of you, grinning, and she pushes on her sword, digging it into the wall and forcing even more of it through your shoulder. You scream through clenched teeth, panting and breathing hard. Oh, God, what is she tearing through? Bone? Muscle? Whatever it is, it  _hurts_.

There are tears in your eyes, and your other arm is moving without your say-so. Your hand claws at the place where sword meets skin, and you feel like you would do  _anything_ to make the pain stop. All you can hear is the Condesce's laugh, echoing in your ears, creating a background symphony to your pain in conjunction with the sound of blood rushing through your ears. Through your ears? No, the blood can't be there. It's pouring out through your shoulder, all of it, so much red that it makes you dizzy to look at it. All you want is for the agony to end. You scratch and claw desperately at the wound, but all it does is make the Condesce laugh harder, and you don't even feel it through the burning, the way everything is burning, it hurts, and you want to tear your arm off of your body, make it end  _make it_   _end_ , you just want the  _pain_ to  _ **stop**_

and then it does.

You let out a low grunt as you slam against the ground, and the sword is jarred from your wound at the impact, hitting the stone floor with a clatter. You gasp in pain, working hard to catch your breath. Your vision is tilted and spun and blurry, so you blink to try and figure out what happened. Why are you still alive? Shouldn't the Condesce have killed you by now? You reach to rub your eyes with your good arm, only to smear blood over your face. Oh, right. You had almost forgotten about all of the blood.

"Holy shit." Eridan's voice reaches your ears. Eridan? You thought that you had told him to leave, although you can't recall actually seeing him or Feferi exit the room.

Your vision comes back into focus, but you think that it still must be fucked up because what you're seeing cannot be real. There's a body slumped over in front of you, and while the skirt is a dead giveaway to her identity, you still don't believe it. The Condesce, dead? Impossible. But the silk of her dress, spread out around her wider than the slowly growing pool of blood, is unmistakably hers.

You try not to gag, turning your head away so that you don't have to look at the stump of her neck. Feferi stands behind her, panting and shaking. In one hand, she's holding your dropped sickle, and the other is twisted through the oily strands of the Condesce's hair. Once so lifelike, the threads now hang lifeless, the Condesce's eyes wide open and a sickening smile permanently stuck to her twisted features.

Feferi drops the head, breathing hard, and takes a step back. You expect her to look horrified by what she's done, but instead, she just looks resolute. She gently nudges the head with her shoe, turning it so that the Condesce is face-down in a pool of her own blood. "Now who's pathetic?" She smiles, shaky, and collapses, crashing to her knees.

You stay awake long enough to feel when Karkat crouches next to you. He starts to say something, but you don't hear it over the volume of Feferi's sobs. And it doesn't really matter, anyway, because the next instant, you're unconscious.


	37. Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that I have you standing here,  
> I must confess my sin.  
> I've always loved you,  
> ever since the day we shared the same air.

You drift in and out of consciousness. Your waking moments are filled with pain, running from the tingling tips of your fingers, down your spine, and slowly spreading and consuming your entire body in an ache that burns so badly, that you refuse to move. The hours you spend asleep are plagued by nightmares of a cruel witch, sinking her claws into you and ripping your arm off.

You don't think that it really lasts long before you're back to a stable condition, but it feels like  _weeks_ when you're dreaming. Time almost seems to go backward, and it slips between your fingers and drowns you, leaving you so disoriented that when Terezi tells you that you've only been unconscious for two days, you are genuinely surprised. Two days?  _Only_ two? It's a mathematical impossibility, but everyone confirms it for you.

John, when he's handing you food, and you manage to croak out the question, Jade when you wake up with her and Rose at your bedside, and Karkat…

Well, he doesn't come to see you. Not while you're awake, anyway. That's probably your fault, so you can't be too mad at him. You do spend far too long rolling it over in your head, though, analyzing his motives from every possible angle.

You probably shouldn't have kissed him, now that you're thinking about it. Being separated for all that time, all the worrying you did over him… It's like how you used to feel about John, but your old feelings for him feel like a childish, schoolgirl crush compared to how you've started to think about Karkat. Kissing him, though? You couldn't have made a worse decision. He's probably going to yell at you like John is once you track him down, and slap you and reprimand you for being disgusting enough to kiss another boy. That kiss at the top of the cliff was probably only because he knew he was going to die. You wonder if he'll believe you if you say that the kiss was only to serve as a distraction.

On the third day after you're put to bed, you're awake enough to figure out where you are. Still in the Condesce's castle, unfortunately. The place gives you tingles of unease in your gut, but you don't really have anywhere else to go.

"If you try standing before that wound is healed up," Terezi all but growled at you, pointing at your shoulder, "I will gut you and tie you down with your intestines if I have to. Stay. Put." She looked like she meant it, too. And you take what Terezi says under hard concentration a lot of the time, though you didn't have to spend a lot of time thinking about that statement before you were agreeing with her.

Your stomach has nothing left but a jagged scar, so it isn't the issue here. No, the problem is that, every time you try to move your arm or put pressure on it, your stitches split open. Terezi curses you out the entire time she's fixing them up and wrapping them with fresh bandages. Your hand works mostly fine. You can make a fist, though you can't turn your wrist very far. Your writing was loopy before, but when you're allowed to try it out again (with Terezi's permission), the once thin, elegant letters look more like chicken scratch. It's not very encouraging.

"Why are you staying here?" You ask Feferi when she comes to see you on the night of your fifth day here. "You have your mother's money now - you could go anywhere. You could leave it all and  _be_ someone."

Feferi gives you a sad little smile. It's only been five days since her mother's death, but the stress is obviously weighing on her. She has bags under her eyes, rumpled clothes, her hair is tangled, and she's pale and fidgeting in her seat next to your bed. "I am someone." She says quietly. "These people can't govern themselves, and I need to give the land my mom stole back to the rightful rulers. Maybe I should appoint new Lords of the land…" She bites her lip gently. "I wish it was just as simple as leaving, Dave, but I have two funerals to plan."

Terezi doesn't let you go to the funeral, but John tells you about it afterward. Only their friend group had been there, and it was rather… uncomfortable. Feferi buried her mom next to her grandmother, in the same plot of land where all of their ancestors had been laid to rest. Apparently, the Condesce had ordered a mausoleum to be constructed for her eventual death, made of smooth, flawless marble. It has her name, and the family crest carved everywhere. There was nothing that Feferi could do about this at the moment, but John tells you that she saw it only right to lay Sollux to rest there. It had been a trial to get his body dressed for the funeral, but apparently, after he had been mostly drained of blood, the mess was easier to clean, and have a nice suit fitted for him.

"I don't think it was a new suit." You remarked calmly, looking out the window next to your bed while John told you the story. From your position, you can't see much aside from the extensive forest encircling the castle. It's a vast ocean of green, and you let your thoughts get lost in it. "I think it was the suit he was going to wear to their wedding."

For the services, no one had been quite sure what to say. Feferi had spoken for her mother, but hadn't seemed surprised or disappointed when no one else had anything to add, good or bad. Sollux's reception had been… longer. According to John, she had started to tear up halfway through and pressed on, and there is a note of pity in his voice as he describes how Feferi hadn't broken to tears until the lid of Sollux's marble casket had been sealed into place, and everyone - even Eridan - had managed at least a handful of parting words for Sollux. Then, she had leaned into Eridan's chest and cried as quietly as she could manage. You don't fault her for this.

Social graces indicate that, because of her fiancé's untimely death, Feferi should be wearing all black for at least a month before seeking out a new man to court. But she hasn't done that - her wardrobe hasn't changed in the slightest. There isn't enough  _time_ to properly mourn Sollux and her mom. She has a city to run, property to divide, decisions to make, money to manage… The stress of being the queen of three countries was thrust upon her shoulders overnight, no warning or preparation whatsoever. You can hardly blame the poor girl for crying when she has been given so much stress in her life so suddenly.

She is polite and gracious enough to let you and her friends live in her castle, while she toggles between countries with Eridan by her side while he assists her in working everything out.

You get the nicest room, because the castle staff absolutely refuses for it to go any other way. It's actually almost… creepy. After Feferi made an official announcement about the truth behind the deaths of your parents and your disappearance, the staff redoubled their already annoyingly insistent efforts to bend over backward for you, as though it somehow makes up for their late mistress's treatment towards you.

Terezi tells you a story about how when she tried to stitch you up the first time, when you were still unconscious, the Condesce's official doctor on staff had argued with her over the stitching pattern she had used for almost thirty minutes, until she stuck him with the needle herself and he got the hint.

You find this amusing. When your friends are too busy to fight off the maids who are constantly trying to come through your door, you get pampered to such an extent that, even as a prince, you find it strange and uncomfortable. You barely even make it two days before you're insisting that they stop. You're royalty, goddamn it, not some kind of god.

Instead of focusing on you, you tell them to spread their efforts to your friends. And, you ask one of them to check on Karkat for you and tell you how he's holding up. None of your friends will mention him. You tried to ask John if Karkat was at Sollux's funeral, only for the subject to be abruptly changed. You inquired about Karkat's health to Jade, and she suddenly remembered that she had been meaning to ask Feferi about starting a small, indoor garden to keep herself busy, and then left. It goes without saying that you have grown somewhat frustrated with them.

However, when you ask the maid to look at Karkat for you, she sighs. "Highness, I don't want to be the one to tell you this." She admits quietly, looking at her feet in shame. "The staff was told not to mention it, because it would upset you. But I can't lie to you. Master Karkat has… left."

You blink in surprise. "'Left'?" You repeat. "What does that mean?" You can't believe that He was actually allowed to leave without being stopped. Karkat is in a fragile state right now, and as soon as you start thinking about the poor mental state he was in, thousands of horror scenarios flood your mind. What if he's dead? Kidnapped? Or, if he got lost without food and is slowly dying of starvation?

The nurse looks incredibly uncomfortable now, but continues regardless. "He… left once he was told that you were awake." She says slowly, eyeing you as though worried you're going to lash out. "He- well, the staff was told to keep a room ready for his return. Apparently, he needed time to… "find himself," the way Master John puts it."

John. Of course.

"Why didn't you tell me that Karkat had left?" The words are out of your mouth the second he steps through your door the next day. Ordinarily, you wouldn't be quite so blunt with your frustrations, but this is  _ridiculous_. You can't get out of bed, you can't be trusted to feed or bathe yourself - and no one even bothered to tell you that Karkat has been gone for over a week! You are  _injured_ , not  _helpless_ , and you will stand up right now and kick John's ass if that's what it takes to make him understand.

At the accusation, he pales, and shifts in place. He acts like he's going to back out of the room, but you fix John with a hard glare and he sighs. The door is shut, and he approaches your bed. He doesn't look regretful - not really - but he does look sorry. "He didn't want you to know." John sighs. "Look, Dave, you have every right to be mad at me for lying, but Karkat needs this. He's been through a lot recently, and some time to clear his head will be… good. There's a lot of things that he needs to think about. He asked specifically that I hold off on telling you for as long as possible. And, before you ask, no, I'm not sure when he's going to be back."

You open your mouth and then close it. That… answers most of your questions. John must have been thinking about what to tell you for a long time now. You feel your anger dissolve, and with a sigh, you fall back against the bed. You aren't looking at John anymore, but he stays by your side. He really knows you too well. You lick your lips - your mouth is far too dry. "Why didn't he want me to know?" You ask after a moment.

John doesn't reply immediately. You hear his breathing, but he doesn't move or make a sound for a painfully long second. "I… think that he… that he left partly to spend some time- thinking about you." He admits, wringing his hands nervously. "That kiss really, um, confused him. He needs time, Dave."

You try to give Karkat time.

But one day turns into a week, and into a month, until you've run out of excuses to stay in Feferi's castle. Your shoulder is healed - relatively speaking. You still can't really move it, but the skin is staying together without stitches, and you aren't bleeding anymore. Word of your survival reached Derse, along with the even more surprising news that your sister is alive. You think that your people are going to burn this castle to the ground if you don't head home and allow yourself to be crowned king. And you aren't trying to avoid your royal responsibilities. You just…

You want Karkat to be there for the coronation.

Rose talks you into it, though. She packs up her stuff, makes a travel suitcase for you, and drags you and Kanaya all the way to Derse. Well, what she actually does is get a carriage and talk to Kanaya animatedly the entire journey while you sulk, but you still really don't want to be going. Karkat isn't back yet, and truth be told, you don't think he will be returning. He has nothing to come back to - no responsibilities or commits that tie him to you.

It's… disheartening, but that's alright. You think that being king will be good for you. And, more importantly, it's good for your people. When it comes to being a king, your father taught you that the ruler must push aside everything about themselves. The people come first - always. So, you can accept this. You're going to miss Karkat horribly, but… really, what is one person you've lost compared to the good of hundreds of thousands?

You pointedly ignore the nagging ache in your heart. You don't have time to miss Karkat, or fully embrace his absence. You're  _busy_ , from the moment you step foot into your castle.

Immediately, you're launched into wardrobe. Your father's crown was recovered, and you have lessons in that - practicing walking and dancing and eating with the extra weight on your head. You meet with a group of speechwriters who all think that they know  _exactly_ what you should say. You have a meeting with your dad's advisors - now yours - and they spend over half of the meeting discussing brides from other countries and nobles that are eligible for marriage, and the pros and cons that come with each of them. You tune out of that conversation, and let the bicker while you stare out the window and dreamily imagine what kind of wedding Karkat would like. You bet that he looks great in a suit.

They don't settle for any girl in the meeting, which is a relief - you don't like any of them. You don't  _know_ any of them. What you do know is a long list of their father's income, family crests, ancestry, possible advantages to the countries should you take so-and-so as a bride, and everything from the length of their daily lessons to who their great-great-great-grandfather was, but by the time all is said and done, you haven't learned a  _thing_ about any of their personalities. Favorite colors (Karkat told you that he's secretly always liked soft hues of yellow), or ambitions (Karkat wanted to build a real life for himself - family and all), or even if they like you at all (Karkat liked you - and you hope that he still does).

You have a week to prepare for the coronation, and in that time, you hardly ever see Rose. You're both swept up in plans, some of which you're pretty sure are supposed to make you fall in love with your sister. It's not like it's uncommon, but… it's safe to say that you are severely uninterested, and Rose doesn't have a much more positive view of the idea. She's just not your type.

On the night before your coronation, she barges into your room while you're busy trying to memorize your speech for the following morning. It was written by your group of advisors, and you kind of want to scrap it and toss it away. It's so boring that you can barely get through three sentences of it without yawning. You're grateful to see Rose, and you get to your feet so that she can drop into your chair with a huff, the ten folds of her stupid skirt puffing up to ruin the dramatic mood.

She pushes the folds down impatiently, frowning at you hard. "Dave," she speaks after a moment of staring, "how do you know if a girl likes you?"

You don't reply. You stare at Rose, and open your mouth, just to close it again. Girls? Your sister is asking  _you_ about  _girls_? "I… am not sure how to answer that." You say slowly. "The only experience I've ever had with "girls" is Jade. I mean, there was the possible wives dad introduced me to over the years, but Jade was the only one who I think liked me. But, she pretty much scrawled the words on her forehead, so I don't think I can answer your question." You smirk faintly. "And, Kanaya strikes me as the quiet type, anyway."

Rose isn't even the slightest bit surprised by this. She groans and gets to her feet, holding her head in her hands. She tugs on her hair, and flings her arms up before dropping face-first onto your bed. It's been  _ten years_  since you last saw your sister have a meltdown like this. She fumbles for one of your pillows, pressing it to her face and letting out a scream of frustration.

You quickly pull the pillow away, hoping that no guards heard. You start to tell Rose to calm down, but she cuts you off before you can get a word out. "She's infuriating, Dave!" She snaps. "I got her to be the apprentice of the head designer on staff - she wants to create clothes to be closer to her aunt. I thought that we would spend a lot of time together, as I was going to obviously need new measurements and an entirely different wardrobe, but no, I get nothing! Every time I try to talk to her, she makes up an excuse to leave, or avoids me entirely! Did I do something wrong in the process of trying to be a good friend? Oh, God, she's been weird since even before the confrontation with the Condesce - do you think she hates me? Is it obvious that I like her and she's disgusted? Is that how girls  _are_? I'm sorry, I just- I didn't get a lot of experience with girls when I was with Disciple-" you make a mental note to try and contact your ex-leader, "-and Kanaya is just- she's so  _complicated_! I thought that we really connected, Dave, but- well, what if it was all just a lie so that she could get a big and important job, and now that she has it, she sees no reason to speak to me?" She bites her lip, twirling a strand of hair around her finger so tightly that you can see white lines in her skin where it's constricting blood flow.

You sit down next to her on the bed, and hesitate before putting your good hand on her shoulder. "Um… I think I know what she's doing there, at least." You say slowly. You think back to when Karkat was avoiding you, and being cruel to you, so you would want to stop being his friend. He said that it was to protect you, but you don't see what Kanaya could be protecting Rose from by staying separate. Of course, there isn't much of a problem with them being together, aside from-

Oh, right. The fact that she's a princess.

Wait.

You know that you must have shock written all over your face, but Rose doesn't remark on it. She talks for another few minutes before kissing your cheek and leaving, and you continue to sit on your bed. Your speech is forgotten, and now, your mind is whirling far too much to allow for sleep.

Is it… possible that Karkat-  _loved_ you? You can't help the small, fleeting hope that he still does. You want Karkat to love you, because you love him so much that your chest aches. God, how did you not see it before? All the support, the way he would gladly lose days of sleep for you, how your state of mind was always his top priority. You were so focused on John and being in that stupid wheelchair to even pay attention. And now-

Now he's gone. You wasted your time, and you let him go. You don't think Karkat will come back, and you honestly don't blame him. Your opportunity for something with him has left, and you're kicking yourself for allowing that to happen. How could you have been so completely blind? You can't believe that your feelings took so long to register with you. Looking back, it's so obvious. You're holding your head in your hands, running through every conversation you can remember, every time you thought that he might be staring at you, every little inflection that you never thought anything of at the time…

You get up to blow out the candle by your desk, putting the speech away. You aren't going to need it. And even if you had any desire to recite it before, now you can barely be bothered to pick up your feet to collapse in bed. You're still in your normal clothes, but the silk and fur are nice enough that you don't mind sleeping in it.

You sigh and close your eyes, trying to relax. It doesn't go so well. Your dreams are filled with fuzzy objects just out of reach, and familiar, warm hands holding you close.

Predictably, you're exhausted in the morning. You walk over to the large window overlooking the front of the castle, watching the commotion below with disinterest. A lot goes into a coronation. Firstly, everyone who's anyone is invited to watch. Afterwards, you're to travel around your capital city to great your subjects and receive adoration. There are decorations to plan, cleaning to do, food to cook, security to set into place… and a future king who needs to get dressed.

You don't get to bathe yourself. Instead, you are mauled by a team of ten maids and scrubbed so thoroughly that they must have completely taken off a layer of skin. You're sore and tender, but that doesn't stop the wardrobe team from cramming you into the most ridiculous outfit you've ever worn. It's bigger than some of Rose's dresses, and the result is a spark of blond hair overtop a virtual mountain of silk. You feel awkward and bloated, and moving is hard. You doubt that you'll be able to eat like this, but that's fine. You aren't supposed to eat until the after party - where you raise a glass in your kingdom's honor and are allowed to remove the heaviest robes and partake in the food prepared.

You're given your schedule by a member of your council. The actual coronation will be first - you're going to be escorted downstairs by the most decorated knights, and then the Head of the Church will say a few words and put the crown on your head, officially naming you as the king. Afterwards, there will be a trip down to the town in your carriage, where you're going to give that speech you've ignored, and address the people. Lastly, you return home for a party with the nobles and aristocrats that usually lasts an entire week. Your advisor is sure to remind you that there will be plenty of eligible young ladies in attendance for the event. You want to tell him that you don't care, but instead, you merely nod and keep your mouth shut. A king does have his duties.

Mostly, it's just easiest to tune everything out. You paint a smile on your face, and let yourself be ushered downstairs, to the throne room. As promised, the Head of Church - a short, squat man with barely any facial features - addresses the room with his wheezy little voice, and when he's finished, places your father's crown on your head.

You stand, waving and smiling to the cheering crowd. You aren't sure what the huge fuss is about. You could have placed the crown on your own head, and skipped the speech. But, tradition is tradition. You thank the man, as you're supposed to, and shake hands with people you're lead past on the way out of the building.

By now, the sun is high in the sky. You can't believe how quickly the hours are ticking away. The enormity of it all suddenly hits you, even as you're taking a seat in your carriage. Rose can't join you, but you wish that she was allowed to. It seems  _ridiculous_ that they would name someone like you king. You're nothing but a child - how can you be expected to know how to run an entire  _country_?

And what about the short term? You have a speech to be giving soon, and you have absolutely no clue what you're going to do. You look out the window to try and understand where you are, but all you see is unfamiliar buildings and rubble. You aren't sure how long you've been away from home, but the citizens have gotten very good at making progress, Hundreds of new homes are up, though the ash from the fire is still being swept away.

You remember Karkat describing the devastating flames to you once, and your heart squeezes at the memory of him. You would have listened to him talk for hours, gladly. And he was always willing to extend the same courtesy to you. Karkat has always been there for you. He always believed you, and listened to your thoughts, your fears, the internal struggles…

He was the only person who looked at you as though there was something worth seeing.

The carriage rolls to a stop, and the door is propped open for you. You step out, squinting against the light. You do have a new pair of shades (courtesy of Feferi), but they don't make the festive town square seem any less bright.

As soon as you step out, the noise is deafening. Your ears hurt, and you want to shrink back into the carriage. But your parents always lived a secluded life, and kept you hidden from all except the people they thought they could trust. You've lived with these people. You know them. You know what they want.

So you stand up straight and tall, and plaster a smile on your face, waving at the people as you cross from the steps of your carriage to the raised stage they've placed in the square for you to stand.

Despite the burnt buildings surrounding them, the people are incredibly pleased to see you. They cheer and shout your name and clap and stamp your feet, and there are music and singing, all of it so loud that you have trouble focusing. But you know that they need something to feel good about, so you stay quiet, waiting for them all to calm down.

It takes a while, though you don't mind the wait. It's nice to see these people happy. You even recognize a few of them from the time you spent working here. Automatically, your eyes flit over to John's bakery. You wonder if his dad is alright. At some point, John mentioned that his dad had been out of town during the fire, but coming back to that husk of a home, and his son missing… You search out his face in the crowd, though you don't find it.

Maintaining your smile is one of the most difficult things you've ever had to do. How can they expect you to smile? The town square was your  _home_. It was one of the few places you ever felt like you belonged. This is where you met Karkat. He had bumped into you (on purpose or on accident, you aren't sure), and you, with your superficial need to be as helpful as possible, had invited him into your life without a second thought.

You try not to think about Karkat. You  _can't_. It's too much to juggle. When you're king, you need to accept that there are some things you'll never have. Karkat is one of them, and you need to move on.

Around you, the crowd finally quiets. The last of the music fades out. You keep smiling. In the back of your mind, the last bits of that speech you're supposed to give fades out into obscurity. You don't need it. You feel almost serine, because you know exactly what your people want to hear. It helps to have lived with them for a while.

"Today, I am your new king." You speak normally, but in the anticipation of the crowd, your voice seems to boom, carrying for miles. "You all should, therefore, be my subjects. But I am not my father. I'm not going to lock myself away in that castle as though you all don't exist, or don't matter. I see you all," you pause for a moment, "as equals. Partners, in running this country. I may make the laws, but you all keep us going. There would be nothing for me to rule if it wasn't for all of you, and as your king, I'm going to do all I can to make each and every person feel as important as I think they are.

"If I'm going to be honest with you all, I'll go ahead and admit it. This morning, I was dreading the prospect of being king." You reach up, and remove the crown from your head, drawing gasps from the audience. It's understandable. The king is never supposed to remove his crown during a formal occasion such as this. You turn it over in your hands, inspecting the gems that had been replaced, and the gold that had to be bent back into place after that fiasco with the Condesce. It's still a crown, but it's a little broken and a little bent. You think it's perfect. "This crown," You hold it up, "is as much yours as it is mine. A king is nothing without his people, and it is with a heavy heart that I thank you all for allowing me to be your ruler."

As you set the crown back on your head, you are met with a roaring cheer from the crowd. It's twice as loud as the one they had greeted you with, to the point that the stage vibrates beneath your feet. This time, your smile is a little bit less forced.

You just wish that you could have shared this occasion with Karkat.

The advisors aren't going to be pleased, but you don't give a damn. They're "advisors," specifically because the most they can do is offer you their council. Nothing gives them any control over you.

You're driven back up to the castle with the cheers of the crowd still ringing in your ears. It feels… good. You think that you can find a purpose in life by being king. It is what you want, isn't it? You have complete control over this country. No one else can ever be quite as influential, so why don't you do some good with all that power?

You wonder if Karkat would be proud.

* * *

The rest of the day passes in something of a blur for you. Of course, you attend the royal feast after your little speech, and you eat until your stomach aches. The food is definitely something that you've missed about the palace life. One of the only things, actually. You don't much care for the socializing that you have to do afterward, but it isn't a big deal. You just shut off your brain, and greet people with a few phrases you've memorized specifically for events like this. A lot of people want to talk about your parents; what good rulers they were, how much you look like your dad, how  _sorry_ they are for your loss.

None of them mean any of it. You don't really care for their lack of sincerity, though. You put most of your attention to the windows, waiting for the sun to hit the horizon. Then, it is socially acceptable for you to leave. You entertain your "guests" until then, though. You talk to a few young ladies, all single and practically throwing themselves at you, but not one of them stands out. They all want to talk about how much money and power and land they can bring you. Not one of them asks you a single question about yourself - personally. You aren't sure why you expected them to.

It goes without saying, but you leave the room feeling apathetic, and no closer to a suitable bride than before. What kind of girl would you want, anyway? You aren't sure. Marriage between royals has very little to do with love, so you would want a girl who was easy on the eyes, and had a pleasant personality. If you're going to marry, you want to be wed to someone who can be your  _friend_.

You trudge up the stairs, muffling a yawn. Oh, you can't wait to sleep. Your bones are aching, and you want nothing more than to sleep for a solid 24 hours. You wave to the guards stationed outside of your bedroom. They don't return it, but one of them reaches out and opens your door for you, their eyes still fixated on the wall behind you. When you were little, you thought of it almost as a game - to see if you could get these guards to move or flinch or blink. They never did. Now, all you do is walk by them, and into your room.

It's dark, but you don't think much of it. It's late, anyway. Your eyes could use a break from the brightness.

You take off your crown, setting it in its case, perched on your nightstand. You close it, and flick the locks into place so that it doesn't open on its own. Your room feels a little stuffy, so you pull back the curtains over your thin windows, watching the bushes and trees in the garden flit with the breeze that's barely there. You take a deep breath of the fresh air, and shrug out of your robes. Contemplating the silk for a moment, you merely fold it gracelessly over the frame of your bed. You don't really care if one of your thousand robes has a crease in it.

"You aren't very perceptive." You practically jump out of your skin at the sound of someone's voice, whirling around to face whoever spoke. Your hand slaps to your hip, for the sword that you know isn't there, and you freeze. "It's either fate, or sheer dumb luck that you're still alive, Dave, because there's no way you're still breathing thanks to  _awareness of your surroundings_."

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air, and you struggle to catch up with what's happening - to think of something at least semi-intelligent to reply with. But nothing comes to you. "Karkat…?" You manage, taking a weak step forward. "Is that you…?"

He steps out of the shadows of your room, reaching up and pulling his hood down to expose his face. You realize with a start that he looks ten times better than he did the last time you got to see him.

He's bony still, and you think that he always will be, but it's not to an unhealthy degree anymore. Beneath his loose-fitting clothes, you can see better-developed and honed muscle, and you can't help but rake your eyes over his body approvingly. The bruises under his eyes have relaxed back into normal bags, and his skin looks a couple of shades darker. Mostly, though, you notice the look in his eyes. Unlike before, there is no empty, expressionless stare when he looks at you. He's  _smirking_ now, faintly, but still unmistakably doing so.

"Yeah, it's me." He says. "You always were good at astute observations, Dave." His words sound mocking, but you're left confused by the  _tone_ he uses to say them. It's almost… affectionate.

You step closer to him, close enough to reach out and touch, but keep your hands to yourself. All of this should be so straight-up and simple for you, but instead, your mind is spinning, grasping for some rope of reason to root yourself in. You aren't sure how he got up here, especially without tipping off anyone. "But- but how did you…?" You can't find a way to finish your question, but you don't need to.

Karkat shrugs, as if breaking through your security was the easiest thing in the world. "Rose helped me out, I'll admit. I wanted this to be a surprise, so we couldn't raise any alarms." He sighs, and pushes off of the wall, approaching you. He gently grasps the front of your blouse, tied in the front in an elegant bow, and tugs on it until it falls away.

The purpose of doing this is completely lost on you, but if he was aiming to make you flustered, he has succeeded in flying colors. Your shirt hangs open now, giving quite a good view of the flush creeping its way up your body. You turn a deep shade of red, and while you feel embarrassed, you can't bring yourself to look away from his eyes. God, you've missed just  _looking_ at him.

"I don't think the silk really… suits you, your highness." Karkat says with a severe expression, leaning in a little closer. You almost let your eyes close, almost lean in and meet him halfway, but…

Instead, you place a finger to his lips, shaking your head as you step back and move away, back to the window. You take a deep breath of the fresh air. You need a moment to calm down and think about this. When your face doesn't burn anymore, you turn back to Karkat.

"Look," you sigh, running a heavy hand (your only functioning hand) through your hair, "as… as much as I would love that, Karkat, you can't just- I mean, I'm glad you got some self-confidence and personality back after your trip, but you can't just saunter back into my life and kiss me. No, you- there's so much that's been going on in my life. I'm a  _king_ now." You say the word with detestement, grimacing. "You could be killed for being found in here, you know."

Karkat looks like he's struggling with something for a moment, but then he lets out a slow breath, and nods. "I know." He says quietly. "I've been gone, and I'm sorry. I wanted to come back the moment I left, Dave, but… I needed it. I made up with my mom - somehow - and I… I found myself again after so long with the Condesce." He takes a step towards you, and when you don't make a move to protest, he takes another one. "I'm- I'm not arrogant enough to believe that you're just going to throw yourself at me. You have every right to be angry with me. But I came here to make up with you, and I'm willing to wait as long as it takes."

You huff out a bit of laughter. "I already forgive you." You remark quietly. "I just… I don't know, Karkat. Everything's so confusing. I have to marry some random girl selected for me, regardless of if I like her or not. I was ready to give up on being with you to be a good king, but- is it selfish of me to want both?" You bite your lip gently.

Either Karkat moves really fast, or he moves really quietly, because the next time you look up, he's taking hold of your hand. You don't pull away, relishing the warmth as he gives a soft squeeze. "Dave, it's okay to want something for yourself." He says soothingly. "You're one of the most selfless people I know. And it's completely fine to want things, as long as you're not hurting other people with it." He smiles at you, and your heart skips a beat.

There are so many things you want to say to Karkat. You want to tell him how beautiful he looks, how  _proud_ you are of all he's done, how much you adore him in his entirety… Words don't properly describe how much you love him. You want nothing but the best for Karkat, and you want to make him happy. After all he has been through, he at least deserves that much.

But rather than stumble over words and make a fool of yourself, you merely tug Karkat closer, awkwardly positioning both of your arms around his slight body to hug him close. "I missed you." You mutter against the crook of his neck.

Bony arms go around your waist, and Karkat sighs gently against your cheek. "I missed you, too, Dave." He says, his voice so faint that you would have missed it had you not been paying attention.

You want to kiss him.

All you would have to do is lift your head - merely brush your lips together, and that would be enough for you. It would be so easy.

Instead, you give Karkat a squeeze and don't let go for a long, long time. You don't need to kiss him to tell him how you feel. Without uttering a word, you're breaking down in his arms, and you let Karkat piece you back together with his touch. You let him back into your life eagerly, and when you finally do leave Karkat's hold, it's only to move to your bed and hold him to sleep.

And for the first time in a long time, you can be certain that he'll be there when you wake up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking about writing a little mini-story with Karkat's journey. It wouldn't be terribly long, maybe just a oneshot or a handful of chapters. I'm not sure how many people would want that, but it's up in the air if that's something you're interested in. It would mostly be full of OCs, but I think it would be fun.
> 
> One last chapter to go!


	38. Epilogue: I Wouldn't Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forever is a long time,  
> but I, wouldn't mind spending it by your side.  
> Tell me, every day, I get to wake up to that smile.  
> I wouldn't mind it, at all...

"Go ahead and move your arm for me." Terezi says calmly, putting a hand on your shoulder. She isn't looking at you, but she doesn't need to.

You do ask she says, flexing your arm. Well, you try to, anyway. It doesn't go very well. Your arm gives a faint twitch forward, and then falls back at your side. Terezi keeps telling you to be patient with yourself, but you find these sessions with her to be fairly pointless. What does it matter if you can't move this arm? You'll just start writing with your left hand instead - it isn't a big deal, though you can't say that you're looking forward to the hard learning curve.

You sigh, and stand up, giving Terezi a smile. "Thanks anyway, Terezi, but it's been almost a year. I don't think I'm going to be getting the arm back." You can't move it any more than you could the day after the injury, or the day after that, or the next week, and so on. It doesn't bother you as much as you thought it would.

Terezi presses her lips into a thin line and gives a defeated sigh. "Fair enough." She concedes. "I'm tired of wasting my time, too, Dave. Oh, I mean,  _your majesty_." She rolls her eyes, but the smirk on her face just makes you smile at the mocking tone. You've told her countless times that she doesn't have to use your title just because she works for you, but she still likes to tease you with it. "Anyway, we both know where you really want to be right now." She shoots you a knowing smile. "So get to it. He's not known for being patient, Dave."

You chuckle. "Oh, don't I know it." You sigh fondly, waving to Terezi with your working arm as you turn and hurry out of the room. Your bedchambers are three floors above, and while it's technically improper for you to share the room with someone you aren't married to, you and Karkat are as good as wedded already. And no one is stupid enough to try and tell you that you  _shouldn't_ share a bed with him.

Things have changed around your castle since the coronation. For one, you changed the law that outlawed same-sex marriage. You'd like to say that it was just to undo the stupid things your dad did while he was paranoid and emotional, but it's really just so that you can marry Karkat without people bitching about it. They'll probably still complain. Royal heirs are an issue, but you have a deal worked out with Rose to help with that. While having a child with your sister wasn't ever something you wanted to do, the way she wants to do it ensures that you never have to see her showing any more skin than normal. At least your kid will undeniably be royalty and, more importantly,  _yours_.

You had more windows installed, so the whole castle is much brighter and more open than it ever was when you were a child. It wasn't like it was difficult to do, either. You basically get to do whatever you want. Your staff, as well as your subjects, worship you and Rose like gods, with an unhealthy mixture of fear and awe. You aren't sure if it's a good or bad thing yet, but after all the death and mystery surrounding your rise to the throne, and Rose's reappearance, no one is quite sure what to do with you. So they simply crowned you king and let Rose have her old room back. No one has yet tried to talk to Rose about arranging a marriage with a neighboring country, and you think it's best that things stay like that. She's still working up the nerve to hold Kanaya's hand, and you know that she would find it particularly annoying if she had to duck another marriage.

"Karkat?" You call, stepping into your chambers and closing the door behind you. "Are you in here?"

There's a grunt of recognition from the direction of the bathroom, and you follow the noise. Of course, you should have expected this. You roll your eyes playfully, crossing your arms and looking down at Karkat with an amused expression. He's all but submerged himself in your bathtub, steam rolling off the heated water in waves.

He peeks an eye open to look at you, and brings up a hand to wave in acknowledgment before he slips it under the water again. Even after months of this, he never seems to get tired of your bathtub. You would be angry, but you find it hard to be angry with him. Especially when he looks so peaceful. Normally, Karkat only looks like that when he's sleeping. You wish that he was at ease more often.

You walk around the edge of the tub - easily three times as big as your bed - and stand next to where his head is. "How's the water?" You ask, crouching down to be at his level.

Karkat pushes himself up a little to get his ears out of the water, and glares at you half-heartedly. "Dave, you know for a fact that I can't hear you when I'm under the water. Is it really that hard to get my attention before you start talking?"

For all his griping, you know that Karkat adores you. It's all in his eyes and the way he fights not to smile through every exhaustive rant. "It's not important." You smirk. "Don't worry about it." You lean down just a few more inches and press your lips to his. He's always warm when he's in the bath, even if his mouth is too slick, and feels a little pruney. If he can tolerate your cold feet when you cuddle, then you can tolerate his lips when he's been in the tub for hours.

You jolt as you're suddenly tugged forward, opening your mouth to shout in surprise, only to get a mouthful of bath water instead. You spit it up and gag, glaring playfully at your chuckling boyfriend as you sit up.

"Oh, so that's how it's going to be, is it?" You hold up your dripping robes. Though you're wearing priceless silk right now, and the bathwater is ruining it, all you can think about is how to get even with Karkat.

You tackle him, cutting off Karkat's laughter as you push him under the surface of the water. You bend over, ducking into the water as well, and press your lips to his again. Karkat doesn't have much air, and kissing underwater is more awkward than romantic, but he doesn't seem to mind, kissing you back as he gradually sits himself up. You put an arm around his neck, the broken one dangling at your side, and you press up against his torso. Karkat is always warm, but you can feel steam covering his skin, and it almost makes you want to fall asleep in his arms.

And, you would, if you didn't have something to be doing.

With a sigh, you pull back from Karkat's hold. He chases after you for a moment, but seems to realize that you're trying to get out, and you're not just teasing him. He lets you go with a huff. "Come on, we need to dry off." You shrug out of your dripping robes as you stand, leaving the heavier materials on the ground, so you can get the towels from the other side of the room without dripping too much water everywhere. Karkat gives you a small, challenging glare, and you raise an eyebrow. "Hey, I don't like it either, but we've been planning this for months with Feferi. We can always get into another bath after if you really want to."

Karkat shakes his head, standing up and bending over to drain the bathtub. "No, it's alright. I don't really have a rush to spend every waking moment with you, Dave. Especially when your sleeping moments are so much more endearing." He takes a towel from you, wrapping it around his head and patting his hair dry, instead of wrapping it around his waist. You suspect that he does this specifically because he knows how difficult it is for you to keep your eyes above his chin when he undresses (you aren't sure what's more filthy - your abnormal attraction to his "lower reign," or his complete willingness to exploit it). Maybe his time with the Condesce gave him a sadistic streak.

You fix your eyes to his stubbornly, and nod in agreement. "I think you're adorable when you're sleeping, you know. You actually look like you're relaxed, instead of wound up like a coil." You put your arms around his neck (you have to manually lift your broken one in order to do this), and kiss the corner of his mouth gently. "I'd help you relax while you're awake, if I knew how."

He shifts in your arms and loosely puts his arms around your waist. "It's… a work in progress, Dave." Karkat sighs. He nudges your forehead against his, and closes his eyes. "If it helps… I'm about as relaxed as I can be when you're around."

You manage a smile, leaning in to peck your boyfriend on the lips gently. "C'mon," you say softly, "let's get dressed so we can head downstairs, alright?"

It took some time to wear him down in the beginning, but now Karkat is more than happy to wear the clothes that you practically bury him in. It is hard to argue with imported silk, after all. The palace staff loves designing clothes for him, probably because he's so small, and looks so good in everything. At least, you think that he does. The staff doesn't argue with whatever he wants to wear, likely because Karkat doesn't have any real authority, and also that he  _enjoys_ whatever they clothe him with. He doesn't seem to have a single complaint when it comes to clothes, mostly letting the staff adjust and tweak as they please, and complimenting whatever the result is.

This is because Karkat has no sense of style. At all. And it might also be because he's secretly a big softie underneath that "assassin" exterior he likes to put up. You know him better than that, though, and he's smart enough to know better than trying those lies on you. They never work.

You show Karkat how to use his towel properly, and let him muffle laughter while he dries off. In the meantime, you need to dress for a wedding. As a king, you have the authority to marry two people, but even if you didn't, you wouldn't miss this for anything. It's for a good friend, after all.

Luckily, you just so happen to have robes specifically designed for a wedding. Today's wedding, as a matter of fact! Oh, what a coincidence. You strip off your soggy clothes and pat yourself dry, grabbing the gleaming white and gold robes from where they're hanging off of your cabinet. They are a very fine material - you like the way it feels when you rub it between your fingers. It's almost as weightless as air.

You slip it on, tying and buckling and pinning everything you need to look put together. This is difficult with only one hand, but you've got it mostly figured out after a year of having to deal with it. At the last second, you decide to forgo the shades, setting them aside. The red doesn't go very well with the gold trim, but what does it matter? If you're going to watch two of your friends get married, you want to at least be able to actually  _see_ it.

"Dave?" Karkat speaks up, and you turn away from your mirror to look at him. "Can you, um- help me with this…?" His face turns a faint shade of red as he blushes, not looking at you. You don't need to ask what he needs help with - it's kind of obvious. His robes are white, like yours, but they're much more rumpled, hanging off of his frame awkwardly. The neat bows look more like triple-knots, and you're pretty sure that the beaten, old boots he's worn for as long as you've known him, don't go with the outfit very well.

You snort, laughing as you walk over to him. "Shut it." He snaps on reflex, but he sounds more flustered than actually angry, so you let it slide.

"Aww," you coo, untying his robes and fixing them so that they… well, are done  _properly_ , "you're so cute, Karkat. Like a helpless baby bird." This earns you a sharp glare, though Karkat's face turns to an intense, burning shade of red, so you can't really be sorry.

When you're finished, Karkat looks much more regal. The robes were on backward the whole time - a fact that you are careful to bring up as many times as you possibly can. Nonetheless, now things actually fit Karkat properly, clinging in all the right places. You toss your boyfriend a pair of fur boots to wear, which Karkat grumbles complaints about, though he eventually gives in and puts them on.

"And, the finishing touch." You open a small box, pulling out a thin, dainty tiara. It's made of real gold, with an ornate diamond in the middle, and tiny rubies circling it. You think that it suits Karkat, but he hates the damn thing.

"Dave-" he starts to protest as soon as he sees it, taking a step back. However, you have much longer legs than him, and a better argument.

You advance, approaching Karkat until he's pressed up against the wall. "It's a formal event." You mutter into his ear. "Please wear it? I promise I'll make it up to you once we get the room to ourselves tonight…"

Karkat shudders, biting his lip and looking into your eyes. You shift a little bit, pressing a knee between his thighs, and he gives the tiniest little sigh. "Fine." He snaps, trying to cover how flustered he is by pretending to be angry. He snatches the tiara from you, placing it on his head with muted curses about how stupid it is.

Of course, it's a tradition. The tiara is supposed to go to whoever the blood-ruler marries - regardless of gender. And you and Karkat may not be married, but he might as well get used to it whenever he can. You plan on going to a lot of social conventions with him. Not only to be as different from your dad as possible, but also to show off your (future) husband.

"Thank you." You kiss Karkat sweetly, and then pull back, going back over to your dresser. Your crown is there, too, and while you agree with Karkat that wearing them is stupid, you still pop open the box and slip it onto your head anyway. It's a formal event, after all. And besides, it's starting to grow on you. You… like what it represents.

"Think we're ready to head down?" You ask, turning back to Karkat. To your surprise, though, he's moved. He's standing in front of you, a red, thornless rose clasped in his hand. You know where he got it, obviously. You have a vase of red roses on your nightstand, and they look suspiciously ruffled. No, the reason you're surprised, is that you didn't hear him move.  _How the hell does he do that_?

"One last thing…" Karkat doesn't have to get on tippy-toes, but it's still cute to watch him reach. He tucks the flower behind your ear, smiling a little. "It's a little…  _flowery_ , but I think it adds some color to your white and gold… everything."

That joke earns a little smile. Yes, pale and blond and decked out all in white, you can't imagine that you look very… colorful. You reach up to touch the little flower. "It's perfect." You put a hand on Karkat's waist, pulling him in to kiss him gently. A lot of times, you let your passions get the best of you. You can't count the number of hours you've lost to Karkat - be it sitting next to him, or treating him in bed.

This kiss, you make short. It doesn't need to be long and heart-pounding every single time for him to know that you love him. And with the look Karkat gives you as you pull away, you think that he understands, anyway.

You have to step back - otherwise, you could spend all day admiring him. There is a time and place for that, and usually, you chose to do it while he's sleeping. For some reason, telling Karkat that you love him and want to be together forever is a difficult thing to say to his face.

Instead, you purse your lips and loop your arm through his, tugging him to the bedroom door. "Shall we?" You ask quietly.

Karkat rolls his eyes. "Unfortunately." He replies with the faintest smirk.

Technically, the king's "wife" is supposed to sit with the audience, in the front row, while her husband is presiding over a ceremony. But you don't really care. And, luckily, neither does Feferi.

You swoosh down the spiral staircase, leading Karkat into the Great Hall. The doors leading to the outside are flung wide open, and people of every class and distinction are pouring in. This is also Feferi's choice - she wants everyone to be able to see her wedding, free of charge.

The Condesce has so much money that it isn't as though she's losing anything big. Actually, because it's impossible to tell how much of that money was stolen or legitimately earned, she's decided to use it only for good things. Her wedding, for example, or charity. She can use the money to build new houses, or even new places for jobs.

You find your way up front to the altar, Karkat following at your side. You like the warm feeling it gives you, to look over and be comforted by the sight of him there.

At the front of the room, Eridan shifts nervously, eyeing the sprawling entrance as he shifts in place. "Davve!" He looks relieved to see you. After everything that happened, you're glad that you got him to stop using your title when addressing you. Sure, it sometimes draws a few odd looks when you're out in public, but he's your friend. No fancy titles are needed. "Thank fuck. Havve you seen Feferi yet today? I knoww I'm not supposed to see her, but I wwant to make sure that evverythin' wwent wwell with the preparations. Howw's the banquet coming along? I tried to remind 'em that they can't use nutmeg because Feferi hates it, but they wwouldn't let me in! Can you believve it? They wwant it all to be a surprise! I threatened to havve all of 'em executed, but they insisted-" He runs a hand through his hair with an irritated huff, and you seize the opportunity to stop his rambling there.

"Feferi is fine." You reassure him. "Rose is with her, remember? She's going to be the maid of honor, and Kanaya has the rings. There's no way Feferi will get off-schedule with those two all over her. And trust my kitchens, would you? They never forget details." You smirk a little. Once, when you were four, you declared broccoli as an enemy of the prince, and the staff hasn't served you a dish including it since. They're thoughtful like that.

Quickly, you run over a checklist in your mind. All of the guests seem to be here… more or less. John and Jade are looking for a place to sit, and as if reading your mind, Karkat immediately untangles himself from you and goes to direct them to the front.

You like the way the crowd parts for him - even if he isn't a girl, the fact that you gave him the tiara to wear is practically a sign of engagement. He doesn't know that, but you want your advisors to. All of the talk about finding you a nice wife doesn't go unnoticed just because they stopped saying it to your face.

Terezi and Nepeta are already seated, and you wave to them. It's weird to see Terezi in a dress (albeit, a very simple one that cuts off at her knees), and Nepeta with her hair washed and braided neatly, but they both look nice. Definitely attractive, you would say, not that it does anything for you. Jade, of course, looks stunning. She's wearing one of her mom's old dresses - simple, but the green matches her eyes, and the smile on her face when she sees you is absolutely dazzling. Her hair is pinned up in a tight bun, as is the custom for ladies with long hair. You would have a hard time getting Vriska to wear that style, so it's a relief that she's on guard duty. You don't think she minds, though - it seems like Vriska is most at home in a station of power.

Karkat returns once John and Jade are in their reserved seats, putting a hand on your shoulder and kissing your cheek. "What do you think?" He asks quietly, so only you can hear. "Do you think the place is decorated nice enough?"

You raise an amused eyebrow.

Over a week, the Great Hall had been transformed. When the news of the wedding had been released, poets and songwriters had practically flooded your halls. Now, they line the walls, singing to anyone who will listen, and stopping nobles to go on for an hour about what a lovely pair Eridan and Feferi are. There are bunches of flowers hanging along the perimeter of the room, and grown out of season, no less. You aren't even sure what color they all are, but every single one is either fuschia or violet. The wedding has something of an… obvious color pattern.

The pillars have been strung with thin strands of golden beads, making them appear to glitter when the light hits them just right. Feferi took a page out of her mother's book - the astronomically large chandelier hanging over your head has been covered in glittering jewels, giving the room a mythical feeling. The marble floor is so polished and clean that you can see your reflection in it. A sea of tables and chairs have been arranged for the guests off to the side, with a large, empty space in the middle, for the dancing later in the evening. Here, a large statue of Cupid was placed, and within the week, Jade and Kanaya had somehow convinced ivy to grow over it, which still baffles you.

The tables have alternating colors for their tablecloths - violet, fuchsia, white, violet, fuchsia, etc. A top each of them, there's a tall, narrow vase with a single white rose budding from it. Up next to you, a temporary stage was set in place for the bride and groom to exchange vows. The altar itself is made of gold and silver and the most expensive oak Eridan could cheat someone out of. You don't have the rings with you, but you know that they, too, are gold, both embroidered with a pure diamond.

You chuckle. "I think the setup is… satisfactory." You remark dryly.

Karkat laughs, a pure, ringing sound that makes you want to kiss him again. Come to think of it, you almost always want to kiss him. Maybe that's a sign? You should definitely kiss him. You lean in, planning to go for it, and immediately jerk back when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

"Davve," Eridan glares at you, "can you savve it for later? No offense, but I don't remember this being  _your_ wwedding."

Why are you friends with this guy, again?

You almost remind him that this isn't  _his_ castle, but luckily, Rose chooses that moment to come hurrying up to you. Kanaya is right on her heels, and you hope that the wedding planning helped them get closer together. Based on the looks on their faces though, romance is the last thing either of them is thinking about.

At least, when it comes to  _their_ romance.

"Feferi is ready." Rose announces, sounding out of breath from her run. "We have the lute players in position, and the choir is ready. Karkat, over here," she grabs Karkat by the shoulders, moving him around until he's where the best man should stand, "and I'll be  _here_ ," she goes to stand opposite of him, "and Kanaya, you have the rings, don't you?"

Kanaya nods in confirmation, and your eyes are finally drawn to the box in her arms. She cracks it open, lifting it for you and Eridan to see. In it, two rings glitter brilliantly, and you relax at the sight of them.

"The wedding documents are here, too." You tell them, checking the small stack of papers on your alter. You also have a  _Bible_ , but that's more for show than anything. Feferi and Eridan want the actual ceremony to be short, so they can move quickly to celebrating their union. "Don't worry, Eridan. You and Feferi will be legally married within the hour."

He starts to say something - maybe to thank you, or start crying - but the sudden swelling of music cuts him off.

Hastily, everyone in the audience stills, taking a seat, and all attention goes to the doors of the Grand Hall. You quickly check that everything is in place, moving to stand behind the altar. You take a deep breath and relax. After ending a forceful, tyrannical takeover, speaking at a wedding is the easiest thing you'll ever have to do.

There are no flower girls or extensive lines of people leading Feferi down the aisle. She doesn't need any introduction, or anything standing between her and her fiancé.

Instead, the audience holds their breath, watching with awe as Feferi comes into view. Somehow, her hair seems even bigger than normal. It's been curled and teased, falling in tight rivets down her back. The curls are threaded through with strands of golden beads, catching the light in a way that makes her hair nearly pulsate. She's wearing a thin, white veil over her eyes, but the color seems drab next to her gleaming smile. Even her dress, with all of its pounds of silk, doesn't suffocate her - instead, it enhances her. A dress so large should, reasonably, completely swallow her physical being, but instead of getting caught up in all of the ruffles and folds and trim, all you see is  _Feferi_.

The music strums gently in the background, swelling to a chorus when she reaches the stage, and cutting off completely when she stops and takes Eridan's hand.

Neither of them says anything, but they don't need to. Feferi is practically glowing, and Eridan is looking at her with such adoration in his eyes that it almost makes you gag. Mostly, though, it just makes you smile.

"I am beyond pleased to be here with everyone." You state in a clear voice. You don't have to make an effort to be loud - the Great Hall makes your voice boom, and everyone is so anxious to hear you speak that there isn't any need to wait for people to quiet down. "Today, we are celebrating the love of Feferi Peixes and Eridan Ampora, and their lovely union. They are both very important people to me, and I consider them close friends. I am so happy that they could experience feelings this strongly together."

You smile at them both, and Feferi giggles, blushing faintly under the veil. "The rings?" You gesture for Kanaya to step forward. Are you rushing things? Yes, and you're skipping more than a few traditions while you do it. But the funny thing is, you don't really give a damn.

Kanaya opens the small, wooden box containing the elegant rings, and holds it out for Eridan. He takes Feferi's ring, the slimmer, daintier one, and gently grasps her hand. You remember him telling you that he wants to say a few words during the ceremony, but rather than turning to address the audience, he slips the ring onto Feferi's ring finger and smiles. Their heads duck towards each other, and Eridan kisses her on the cheek, murmuring something in her ear that you can't quite make out. Whatever it is, he keeps it brief.

Feferi doesn't reply, but she doesn't need to. Her hand finds Eridan's ring, and she places it on his hand in return. Again, their foreheads meet, and she whispers something against his lips. You don't listen - something tells you that it's not your place to know what they're saying.

When she finally pulls back, you smile. "And now, I pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride." Eridan doesn't need to be twice - he lifts Feferi's veil from her face, and their lips meet in a brief, sweet kiss. Passion isn't for the public eye - it's for two lovers, alone and silhouetted by the moonlight, shrouded in bed sheets.

The Great Hall rumbles with the applause, and Feferi is laughing as she signs her name off next to Eridan's on the official wedding document. Eridan even cheers himself, sweeping Feferi into his arms. You can't fathom how he gets his arms around that damn skirt, but you don't need to understand it. You clap for them - because they're your friends, and because they deserve this.

You start after everyone, towards the dance floor, and are stopped by a hand on your shoulder. You turn, and raise a questioning eyebrow at Karkat. "I know the first dance is for the bride and groom," he says quietly, "but I can have the second one, can't I?"

Somehow, your smile widens. "Of course." You turn to face Karkat fully, and you gently place your free hand on his hip and take hold. "Like you even need to ask. Who else would I even give it to?" You kiss him gently and feel him laugh a little against your lips. That shouldn't be attractive, but dammit, it has your heart beating faster and your stomach doing flips.

"Point taken." Karkat concedes. There's a gentle smile on his face, and it makes your chest tighten with warmth. His hands find their way around your neck, and he steps closer, pressing chest-to-chest. He doesn't say anything for a moment, merely staring at you. "I want a small wedding." He states suddenly. Then, his face colors, and he glances away. "I- I mean- just for, um, future reference."

You press your forehead to his, lovingly pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. "I'll keep that in mind." You say warmly. "But, we might have to wait for a little while." You gesture to something behind him, and Karkat turns to look.

Feferi and Eridan are dancing slowly, swaying to the lute music and quiet singing. It will get more upbeat later, so you aren't worried. The first couple to join them on the dance floor is Rose and Kanaya - your sister leading the nervous-looking girl out onto the cleared space. You can't hear them, but you see Rose's lips moving quickly. Kanaya merely looks confused, and starts to shake her head, only for Rose to scoff. The next moment, your twin has her arms around Kanaya's neck, and then their lips are pressed together.

Karkat smiles faintly, twisting back around to face you. "It's about time." He remarks. You watch them for a moment, see Kanaya relaxing into Rose's embrace and even grip your sister's hips, and then you nod.

Your gaze slides back over to the man in your arms, and you sigh fondly. "Yeah." You agree. "It's ridiculous how long we had to wait for that."

You get a scoff for that comment, but the effect is lost by Karkat's smile. He tugs you down, and your lips meet his perfectly. You almost want to go join the people dancing, but instead, you slowly start to turn, leading Karkat in a dance of your own. You don't need to be surrounded by people - not when all you need is here in your arms.

* * *

It's kind of… improper for a king to sit at the regular tables and take his shoes off and proceed to rub his feet (especially at a social function), but you really, really don't give a damn.

Your feet are aching, in part from all the dancing you did, as well as the stupidly uncomfortable shoes your expected to wear day-to-day. They're so small that they practically cut off blood circulation when you manage to squeeze your feet into them, and they pinch your toes horribly. You have a huge respect for anyone who can tolerate these. You would chuck them if you could, but instead, you silently apologize to your tender feet, and slip them back on.

The sound of heels clicking attracts your attention. You look up, expecting to see Rose, and blink when you recognize Feferi. "Is something wrong?" You ask, frowning. There's a gentle smile on her face, but you hadn't expected Eridan to let her out of his sight anytime soon. You look for him, but Feferi shakes her head, sitting down in the chair next to yours.

"He's had a bit much to drink, so I decided to take a break from dancing." She smiles good-naturedly. "The shoes hurt my feet enough already - I don't really need Eridan stepping on my toes on top of that."

You nod with a sympathetic grimace. "How do you like the party?" You ask after a pause in the conversation. "I did my best to make sure that it looked how you described, but I couldn't get it  _perfect_. We didn't have enough diamonds to spare to decorate the floor."

Feferi flicks her wrist dismissively. "Oh, nevermind all of that! Eridan was the one who wanted it to be perfect. And he's probably going to write you a list of improvements that could have been made, but you can just chuck it. I think the wedding was gorgeous." She leans over and kisses you on the cheek gently. "Thank you for letting us have it here. Mom's castle… doesn't feel right anymore."

Again, you nod. You don't quite understand what it must feel like to have your mom become an evil dictator and attempt to slaughter you, but all Feferi needs is sympathy. Your comments aren't needed.

"I might rebuild it." Feferi remarks, looking away. "Something smaller, maybe? Something with fewer dungeons. There are a couple… changes I want to make." And then, to your complete surprise, Feferi places a hand on her stomach.

Your eyebrows shoot up. "Feferi, are you-?" You go to ask if she's pregnant, but stop yourself. You don't want to assume, but the smile she gives you tells you all that you need to know. You swallow thickly. "How long have you known?"

She shrugs, trying to wave it off as nothing to worry about. "Almost a month now." She murmurs. "The dresses were already so big that Eridan hardly noticed when I started wearing even frillier ones. Don't tell him, please? I'm still working out the best way to do it, and I want him to hear it from me."

You nod immediately. "Of course!" You promise. "What sort of names are you considering?"

Try as she might to hide it, you think that Feferi must have been dying to talk to someone about this, because she answers immediately. "For a girl, I was thinking Marina? And for a boy, maybe Piries… I'm not sure. I know Eridan is going to have more than a few ideas." Suddenly, her eyes light up. "Oh, what if I named him Sollux?" She places both hands over her stomach, fondness in her expression.

It's a nice gesture, but you still purse your lips. "I- I don't know…" You say carefully. "How do you think Eridan would feel about you naming his baby after your… Sollux?" You finish awkwardly.

Feferi bites her lip, thinking it over for a moment. "I'll talk to him about it." She exhales shakily. "I guess it is a little weird to name your son after the man you love… The baby won't look anything like Sollux, anyway."

Your frown deepens. "Wait, I thought that Eridan was…? Why did you agree to marry him if you don't love him?" No one was pressuring Feferi into it - nobles don't have as much of a push for an aristocratic husband as royalty does. And Eridan has told you the story so many times over that you can practically recite it from memory. He asked her to marry him, and she almost immediately said yes. So, what could be the motive, if she's still in love with Sollux?

She doesn't reply for a moment, glancing away. A strand of hair is wound around her finger, and she bites her lip anxiously as she plays with it. After a moment, she sighs. "Of course I do. You don't just stop loving someone because they die. As for Eridan, though…" Feferi shifts in her seat, twisting her strand of hair so tightly that you can see her finger going red at the tip beneath it, "well, I said yes because I knew I was pregnant." She grimaces a little. "And, it's not like I don't love Eridan. I do-! Mostly as a… little brother, though." Seeing the look on your face, Feferi sighs. "I know it isn't… right to lie to him like this, Dave, but it makes him so happy! He makes me happy, too. I'm not miserable with him. I just… think I'll always see him as the kid I grew up with. Like a brother."

You bite the inside of your cheek, quiet as you think this through. On the one hand, you know that this is only going to hurt them both in the long run. But on the other… you saw how jovial Eridan was to be with her. You can't tell him this - he probably wouldn't believe it coming from you, anyway.

"I won't tell him." You say finally. It isn't an easy thing to admit, but you aren't going to ruin their wedding. If Feferi really is happy, being married to him, starting a family… then maybe the truth behind who-loves-who isn't very important.

Feferi squeals, throwing herself at you. Instantly, you're being crushed by her tight hug and suffocated by pounds and pounds of her skirt. Somehow, you manage to navigate your way around all the fabric to hug her back. "Thank you, Dave!" She beams at you. "I know it's unfair of me to dump all of this on you, but I'm so lucky to have a friend as understanding as you!" She kisses you on the cheek, and the next moment, you can breathe properly again. Feferi stands and rises to her full height, tucking the loose strand of hair behind her ear now that she's finished messing with it. "I'm going to go find Eridan. We have to- "consummate our union," after all." She giggles, punctuating this with a wink as she turns her back to you and walks off.

You don't reply, merely staring after her with bewilderment. It's safe to say that you will never understand girls. You barely understand  _guys_. And speaking of guys you don't understand…

A hand comes down to rest on your shoulder, and you reach up, taking it in yours and giving a gentle squeeze. "Hey." You mumble, turning your head so you can plant a kiss on Karkat's wrist. "How's the dancing?"

Karkat sighs. "Tiring." He takes a seat in the chair Feferi just left, moving it closer to rest his head on your right shoulder. "How is the "princely" socializing?"

You snort. "Sure, we can pretend that I do anything like that." You smile when your reply makes Karkat laugh, and you tilt your chin down to kiss him sweetly. After a moment, you pull back, looking him in the eye. "So, theoretically speaking, if I was going to ask you to marry me…?" You begin slowly.

"Right now?" Karkat raises an eyebrow, amused. "I would say no if you asked me right now. I refuse to share something as special as an engagement with  _Eridan_." He kisses you on the cheek. "But if you ask tomorrow, I can't think of any reason to say no."

He moves as though to stand up, and you roll your eyes, looping your good arm around his waist and tugging him down onto your lap. This position is horribly improper, but looking around, you don't think that anyone notices. And if they do, who cares? It's a wedding, not a funeral.

You tuck your face against his neck, nuzzling your boyfriend and planting a kiss on the column of his throat. Karkat shivers, putting a hand on your chest, and gives you a little nudge back. "Not in public." He mumbles. You nod and move up to kiss him properly instead. Your lips meet tenderly, and he lets out an audible sigh against your lips.

"You  _do_ want to marry me, don't you?" You breathe. Your hand drifts up, stroking the line of his jaw and tracing down Karkat's neck. You find it impossible to keep your hands off of him.

"Mm…" Karkat hums, tilting his head back ever-so-slightly. "Of course I do. If I didn't, I would have cut your hand off for touching my waist." You can feel his sickle, sheathed beneath his robes and digging into your stomach where your bodies meet. You believe him.

You shift so you can put Karkat back in the chair, carefully setting him down. You aren't happy about it, but he's right - you do have to be careful about what you do in public. You reach over to take his hand, giving a squeeze and letting it linger between the two of you. "I'll ask tomorrow." You say quietly. "It'll be the best damn proposal you've ever gotten, Karkat. Be prepared to swoon."

He smirks faintly. "Yeah, okay. I'm not holding my breath, Mr. Kissed-Me-And-Ran-Off-Over-Some-Other-Guy." Karkat teases. You grimace at the reminder. God, you know you're an idiot, but it's hard to beat that.

"Not fair." You protest. "I was into John for so long - how was I supposed to know that you were the one for me?" You're trying to sound whiny and joking, but the words still make Karkat's face heat up. You love how easily flustered he gets over the tiniest bit of affection. You chuckle. "Why don't we call it a draw and just kiss again?" You suggest quietly.

Karkat fights and fails to keep down a smile. His arms lock around your neck like they belong there, and his forehead meets yours with a gentle nudge. "I think that sounds fair," he mumbles, "and I accept your surrender."

Any protest you might have made is cut off when his lips meet yours. You relax into the feeling, letting your eyes close. He tastes like magic, and you can't seem to get enough. You don't deserve it, you know that you don't, and yet...

Even after everything you've been through, it is worth it to end up with him.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say, thank you all for sticking around throughout this long, long story! When I started this over a year ago, I never expected it to get any attention, so I'm incredibly grateful for every single review! I know I never reply to any of them, but I'm still working on mastering my social anxiety, so for now, I'll stick to reading them. For those who somehow managed to force their way through every single chapter, I want to personally thank you. It means everything to me to have your support and your lovely reviews. I wouldn't have gotten through this long, long fic without your support and encouragement! I love you all, and I hope you enjoyed this trip! I still don't like this story, but it was certainly… an experience. At the very least, I hope it was something alright for you to occasionally read in bits and pieces.
> 
> I started watching Camp Camp yesterday and I'm already done. Please help me.
> 
> Final statistics! According to Google Docs, anyway.
> 
> Act 1:
> 
> Pages - 123  
> Words - 76,680  
> Characters - 415,396  
> Characters excluding spaces - 339,817
> 
> Act 2:
> 
> Pages - 208  
> Words - 131,736  
> Characters - 712,026  
> Characters excluding spaces - 581,939
> 
> Total:
> 
> Pages - 332  
> Words - 208,416  
> Characters - 1,127,422  
> Characters excluding spaces - 921,756
> 
> And once again, thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> Music Inspiration: "Ever After" by Marianas Trench.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I Could Kill You With This Spoon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8839159) by [godtiermeme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/godtiermeme/pseuds/godtiermeme)




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